


Never Knew Light Could Be So Violent

by Ims0s0rry



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-05-06 02:19:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14632038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ims0s0rry/pseuds/Ims0s0rry
Summary: Regina's a hero on the Sentinels, a local superhero team headed by Gold, using her powers of darkness generation to curb crime.Emma's just a single mom trying to get by, possibly by using her powers of blinding light for petty theft.Yeah, that might be a problem.On hiatus while I continue to make bad life decisions.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright listen up losers, I've got some things to say.
> 
> 1\. This has been taking shape in my head for the past year but then I went to a goat farm in Washington last year and didn't have internet access for three months (it's a long story) and once I got back I tried to get it down but I'm currently stuck so I'm hoping that putting this out there will motivate me to keep writing. So please comment with anything: constructive criticism, regular criticism, etc. Anything helps.
> 
> 2\. Because I'm so used to the way things work in this AU, I may inadvertently skip explanations. Please tell me if something doesn't make sense.
> 
> 3\. If you're interested in this story and would like to see more/beta, please message me on tumblr at butimnotasexyrussian. I'm in desperate need of someone to bounce ideas off of/cry to about this dumb story.
> 
> 4\. Emma and Regina are younger in this AU. I'd put Regina at about 21 and Emma around 22-24. So Regina in particular, is a bit softer than what we're used to in canon.
> 
> Title from Florence + the Machine's No Light, No Light because I don't know how not to be cheeky.  
> Alternate Title: (Super)Heroes and Villains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear the rest of it is not as much of an info dump.

Regina twirls in her halter gown, admiring how the black silk flares around her in the mirror. As the daughter of the state attorney general, she's been to private functions before, but it's been so long since she dressed up, she'd forgotten how much she enjoyed it. Even though she’s not wearing a mask, it’s no less a deception. It strikes her how gentle and feminine she looks like this compared to when she’s in class armed with her resting bitch face or suited up and pummeling bad guys. The fact that she has a paper in American public policy due tomorrow nags at the back of her mind, but it's worth getting away from her duties for one night, surely.

"Be nice," her mother says from behind her, baring her teeth and squeezing Regina’s shoulder so hard it's just shy of her digging her nails into her skin. Her excitement dulls somewhat. She'd forgotten that she's going to be paraded around the gala on the arm of some guy whose family her mother wants to impress. "His father is a very well-known investment banker and he's donating a large sum to the ALS cause tonight. You'd do well to keep him in your circle. God only knows you’ll need all the help you can get."

She stares hard at her reflection, reminding herself that tonight has a purpose, not for fun. Her shoulders do not slump, though. She was taught better than that. "Yes, Mother."

Robin is a bore, but he seems nice enough, even though he clutches her to his side all night. She's been eyeing the hors d'oeuvres all evening but can't steer him to the table to sample any. Her date insists on making the rounds and networking with all the important people there. She can tell why her mother likes him.

It's not too bad actually until his hand trails from the small of her back to pinch her rear. Without missing a beat, she grabs his wrist and wrenches his fingers into a lock. He winces, twisting his whole arm to relieve the pressure, and has the audacity to stare at her incredulously, as if he has no idea what he’s done to offend her.

"This is your first and final warning," she says in a low growl, but smiling tightly for anyone who might be watching. She'll be punished for offending the son of such a wealthy philanthropist but she isn't getting groped for her mother's ambitions. Still, it won't do to make a scene. "If your hands wander again, I will break each and every one of your fingers."

When she releases his hand, he snatches it out of her reach and beats a quick retreat, his face twisted in self-righteous indignation and no small amount of fear. She sighs, feeling lighter without the weight of his arm clamped around her waist. She spends the rest of the evening hoarding the crabcakes and then turning in early. Still got that paper to write, after all.

A full-time college course load alone would be hard enough, but it’s even harder balancing extracurriculars and an internship and a superhero gig on top of that. But she manages it, mostly through sheer determination and excellent time management skills. To make things worse, Gold — the leader of the Sentinels, the city’s superhero league — insists on randomizing everyone’s schedules to prevent anyone from guessing their secret identities.

Tomorrow's a C day, which means she's got school bright and early. It doesn't actually matter what time she decides to watch the lectures because her classes are online with a weekly discussion group, but if she doesn't get her schoolwork out of the way she'll throw her entire day out of sync, especially since her mother, a senior hero on the team, has given her double patrols for the next month following the incident with Robin. Regina lays out a commercial-worthy breakfast in front of her laptop and watches the professor talk about self-determination in intergovernmental organizations in her pajamas. Now that she's gotten all the prerequisites out of the way, her classes are actually getting a bit more interesting.

After she finishes the lectures, she heads out for her internship at the local senator's office. It's dull work, mostly sorting mail and answering emails and getting yelled at over the phone by angry citizens, but it'll look good on her resume and she's expecting a killer reference letter. She stuffs a burrito in her mouth for lunch while she hurries over to the Sentinel headquarters.

It's deep underground, hidden under a parking ramp, nestled among the pipes in the bowels of the city. They have enough enemies without flaunting where their base is. She’s wondered more than once about what she would tell people about being a Sentinel if she could. She supposes that for most people, like her mom, it’s an honor. But it’s always felt like a job to Regina. She was ambivalent about joining in the first place, but her mother insisted on her carrying on the family legacy.

She just finishes buckling her forearm guards into place when the elevator doors open. She walks into the steel and concrete base, nodding to her teammates Ingrid and Killian in greeting as they face off against each other in the training chamber. As an incentive for her to join, Cora had gone on and on about what a strong bond all the heroes had (she’s never had many friends, and now she’s too busy for a social life), but Regina has yet to see it. They’re more indifferent coworkers than anything resembling friends. Killian, in particular, is a complete idiot.

"Did I miss anything?" she asks as she slides into the secondary workstation, looking up at the various monitors of security cameras across the city.

Arthur yawns and leans back in his office chair, lacing his hands behind his head. "There was a fire and a break-in, but that's all so far today. Nothing exciting."

She nods and pulls out her laptop. Might as well get some work done if it's going to be a slow shift.

She's halfway done with her Model UN proposal when the police scanner starts to squawk. "Requesting all available units to the 4000 block of Center and Ridge. Manslaughter suspect heading north by northwest. Approach with caution, suspect is considered armed and dangerous."

“Rhith and Umbra en route,” Arthur says into the two-way radio, catching her eye and jerking his head to the garage. He pulls down his mask. "Come on, kid. You know what to do."

He and Regina roar out of the nondescript parking ramp's hidden entrance on their team-issued black motorcycles, weaving their way through traffic and dodging bicyclists. When they dismount at their destination, Arthur says, "You head east, I'll take west. We'll meet at the other corner and reconvene if necessary."

Regina nods as the lot around them distorts, the sunny day suddenly darkening and becoming close and claustrophobic as Arthur concentrates on activating his power. He can manipulate light to an extent to create advantageous conditions for his attack. It's unlikely that their target has left the neighborhood and even more so now that Arthur’s illusions are herding him toward the center of where his power is concentrated. The seedy apartment complex faces the road on one side, but otherwise is surrounded by dense brush, hard to sprint through. Police sirens are nearing. They're finally cutting through the rush-hour traffic.

She's just rounding her first corner when a man stumbles out of the unruly scrub with a knife, scratched and harried. He hasn’t caught sight of her yet, brushing burrs off his clothes, but single-mindedly lumbering on. She’s still some distance away but yells, "Hey! Freeze!" anyway.

He takes one look at her in costume and runs. She groans but sprints after him. He has a bit of a head start but she's rested and cool-headed whereas he's panting and probably panicking over accidentally killing someone. He goes down hard when she tackles him, his breath audibly knocked out of him. She's got her knee digging into his back and is just about to cuff him when he bucks and unlodges her enough to roll out from under her, scrambling to his feet.

"I'm not going to prison," he gasps, his words slurred, his eyes wild, brandishing the bloody knife at her.

She puts her hands up in what she hopes is a placating manner and steps outside his range, but not enough for him to consider running again. "Look,” she says carefully, “that's really up to the court. But it would be better for you if you cooperated."

He spits out a tooth. "I know what happens when people go quietly."

She narrows her eyes behind her opaque visor. "Suit yourself."

He lunges forward, raising the knife. With swift, fluid movements borne from hours of practice, she moves, raising a forearm so the blade skitters off her vambrace as she grabs his wrist with one hand before slamming her other fist against the outside of his elbow. The force makes it snap with a quiet pop. He screams, reflexively dropping the knife. She turns and drives her own elbow into his ribs before sweeping his leg out from underneath him. He falls hard, cracking the back of his skull against the asphalt. And for good measure, she drops to a knee and punches him in the face, breaking his nose all within the span of a few seconds.

He shrieks as she rolls him over and pulls on his broken arm to finally cuff him. She taps her com to activate it. "Rhith, can you get the police to come around? I have him," she says matter-of-factly.

"Nice work," Arthur says later, nudging her affectionately as the police drag the suspect to a squad car and read him his rights. "You don't even need me to supervise you."

She scoffs. "I certainly think so, but tell that to Goldeneye." (Regina, for the life of her, cannot understand how Gold can be so paranoid when it comes to the schedule and then name himself something so painfully obvious as Goldeneye.)

Junior heroes like herself need a minimum of two years of chaperoned outings before they can go out alone. She's so close she can almost taste her independence from being babysitted. A year and a half of bringing bad guys to their knees more or less on her own. She certainly feels like she’s earned a place among the senior heroes.

Arthur sighs. "You know I don't make the rules."

"No, but maybe you could put in a good word for me. You know he won't listen to me."

He frowns. "I'll see what I can do."

Which, knowing him, isn't much of a promise at all. Arthur isn’t a bad partner to have on a scene. He’s competent enough, but he’d rather work on his own. It makes him flaky when it comes to favors for other people.

...

Back at base, she types up a few more paragraphs as she waits for her ramen to finish steaming. Her mother sweeps by, clicking her tongue in disapproval. "Regina, there's no nutritional value in this."

She wants to say that she's hungry and tired and just needs something to eat before she passes out. She wants to say that she's already stressed between her classes and her internship without this superhero thing. She wants to say that she's lonely and isolated with only her parents and her teammates for company. But she doesn’t say anything. She's grumpy enough without a thorough tongue lashing from her mother. So she pushes the ramen over to Zelena, whose eyes light up, before she tears open a protein bar.

Cora raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment on that. "Once you're finished with that, meet me in the training chamber. We’ve got some time to run through your drills before Gold gets here."

Along with a two year probation, junior heroes also get mentors who train them and take them along on patrols. When Regina joined the Sentinels, she assumed her mother would be the one mentoring her but to her surprise, Cora had insisted that Gold be appointed her mentor since he was the best. Despite that however, Cora does put in a lot of personal effort into Regina’s training.

The training chamber is bare right now, but it's full of mechanical obstacles that can shift at a moment's notice. It's good practice when you're in pursuit of a target and a fence comes out of nowhere.

"Ready?" Cora throws her dark, glossy cloak over one shoulder and assumes a defensive stance.

She's not. She's never been able to win against her mother, but it doesn't change that she's expected to keep trying until she does. She nods reluctantly.

Cora vanishes on the spot as she sinks into her own shadow. This is her power: being able to travel via shadows. Regina whirls around, trying to stand directly underneath the nearest light source to minimize her own shadow. Luckily, there are multiple industrial light strips above so her shadow is dispersed in several directions. Cora has a harder time forming out of faint shadows, but that's only a slight impairment. Regina keeps her guard up and literally stays on her toes, ready to move at a moment's notice.

Something flickers at the edge of her vision and she braces herself. A flurry of blows pound into her. Cora has formed out of a more solid shadow and bears down on her now. She blocks most of them, returning a few when she sees an opening but Cora still gets in a shot to her jaw, jerking her head to the left. Regina staggers back, trying to get her bearings while her mother pushes her advantage, hooking her leg and trying to bring her down.

Regina retreats, widening the distance between them so that she can get some breathing room. Her head's okay but she's going to have one hell of a bruise come tomorrow. Cora regards her for a moment, sizing her up, and then drops into her own shadow once more. Regina tries to keep her weight on the balls of her feet, but she's already breathing hard and her calves are starting to cramp.

A hand bursts out of the floor and wraps itself around Regina's ankle. Caught off guard, she falls to one knee, her shadow stretching out before her. Cora rises out of it, already in motion. Her leg whips around to deliver the last blow to her bowed head. Regina throws herself backward from her kick, darkness instinctively bursting out of her. She can generate a deep darkness and essentially blind enemies. She hates using her power against her mother though, because then she has free rein to appear and disappear wherever she wants to. Their powers work well in tandem, not against one another.

She gets to her feet, facing the fuzzy figure of her mother, careful not to make too much noise. Although she has limited sight within her gloom, like squinting through heavy fog, no one else does. But Cora could still find her and dispatch her with unerring accuracy if she gives herself away by breathing too harshly or if her footsteps are too loud. She eyes the distance and then leaps forward, pulling her arm back to ram it through the still frame.

Her fist passes through nothing. Her mother heard her coming and has stepped to the right, her arms fastening around her arm and shoulder as she sails past. They fall together, Cora's weight adding to her momentum as they crash on the floor. Regina ends up pinned in an arm bar. She struggles for a bit but bites back a hiss when her mother's grip tightens. She concedes defeat, tapping her arm.

Cora bounces to her feet, barely winded, as the darkness dissipates. "Disappointing,” she says, her voice brisk and impersonal. “And there weren't even any obstacles this time. You're always on the defensive. In a real fight, there's no taking turns. You can't afford to wait for the other person to tire. Strike hard and fast until your opponent surrenders."

She rubs her shoulder. "Yes, Mother."

Cora sets the ring timer to three minutes before pointing to a punching bag. "When I blow the whistle, that's you seeing an opportunity. You put all of your force and speed into each hit and return to your ready stance, understand?"

She nods, her hands up. Just as the timer is about to start though, there's a knock on the glass of the viewing window of the training chamber. Zelena waves and opens the door. "Hope I'm not interrupting,” she says, her voice cheery, “but I thought you'd like to know there's a report in that the Whites have been spotted on the move downtown."

Cora's posture straightens as she heads for the garage. "Thank you, dear."

Usually a junior hero like Zelena would tag along but she doesn't bother asking if she can come with. Everyone knows that Cora's feud with the Whites is intensely personal and she wants no help in taking down the resident crime lords. Zelena gives Regina a cursory lip curl before stalking off.

Regina regards the punching bag. It defeats the purpose of the exercise if she does it by herself since she's supposed to be working on her reflexes. She sets the timer for five rounds and tries her best to pummel the stuffing out of it. She needs to improve her endurance anyway.

She's nearly done with her fourth set when Gold lets himself into the room. "Honestly dearie, if you're going to practice, you might as well do it right. You're getting sloppy returning to form. Make sure you don't rock back on your heels. That isn't going to do you any favors."

She jerks her head in an approximation of a nod, too out of breath to answer.

He corrects her stance, prodding at her feet with his lacquered cane until she shifts accordingly.

When she finishes the last set, she collapses on the mats, panting. Every gasp tastes like blood and her lungs feel like they’re too small to force enough oxygen to her heavy, aching limbs. Gold raps her shoulder with his cane. "Up, Ms. Mills. You'll only make it worse if you lie down. Walk it off, hands on your head."

It takes a minute as she gets to her hands and knees, her arms shaking with the weight, but then she staggers to her feet, pacing around the room. He hands her a water bottle, which she tries to sip instead of gulping down. "Is this all you've done for training today?"

She shakes her head. "Sparred with Mother before that."

"Good enough. Cool down with a mile run and then you're done for the day."

"Yes sir." As much as she’d like to be trusted on her own right now, she knows at the end of the day, Gold could end up extending her junior hero status for as long as he fits. It doesn’t hurt to err on the side of courtesy.

Running is the last thing she wants to do after she feels like she can’t breathe, but she feels better after the run, surprisingly. It must've broken down some of the lactic acid. She's still going to be sore tomorrow but at least she doesn't feel like she's going to die. She showers, changes, and waves goodbye to her teammates on the night shift before she goes home. She's in bed and out by ten.

...

The next day's an A day, which means she's out on patrol first thing in the morning. The sun's only beginning to peek over the horizon when she gets to base. Malcolm yawns in greeting, nursing a cup of gourmet coffee.

"Is that your second cup so far?"

"Third."

"Don't drink too much, it'll stunt your growth."

"Cute. Despite my flawless features, you forget I'm twice your age."

The police scanner comes to life, spitting details of a theft in progress. Malcolm groans. "It's way too early for criminals to be up already."

"It doesn't seem too serious. I could go alone if you need more time to wake up."

"Yes, please."

"Don't tell Gold?"

He scoffs. "Don't screw this up. I don't want to be chewed out in front of everyone for letting you go alone either."

She makes the mistake of letting herself relax when she gets to the address. It's a convenience store, not a jewelry heist or a bank run. It's most likely some poor soul just trying to get by. They'll still have to be apprehended but they'll also be desperate and jumpy.

She's both right and very wrong.

The only two people in the store turn to look at her when she enters the store. She takes a split second to take in the situation: the hapless, white-faced clerk with both his hands in the air and the blond in a sports bra and jogging shorts with a bulging backpack, eyeing the register with interest before Regina spews darkness from her pores. She barrels toward the vague shape of the girl (although she could be anywhere from her late teens to mid-twenties), intending to slam her into the freezers and cuff her while she's stunned when the blond says, "Sorry guys, but a girl's gotta eat" and then she's blown backwards by a literal wall of light.

She crashes into a case of shelves and sends everything scattering. She's on her feet in an instant, but she stumbles, shaking her head. Despite her protective visor, her vision's gone completely white. She waves her hand in front of her face. She can't see a thing. The little bell dings over the door as the woman makes her escape. Regina tries to go after her, but she slips on packets of chips and cheap sunglasses. She can hear the clerk groaning as well. She taps her com to contact Malcolm back at base. "Hey Hirudo, I need backup. I may have screwed this one up."

...

Once the medic is done checking her over back at base, Gold tears into her. "What the hell were you thinking, going solo? You know the rules for junior heroes are in place so you don't die. Do you know what would happen to us if it got out that a hero-in-training died on my watch? They'd have all our heads. As of now, the police force only tolerates us in these situations so we can deal with superpowered threats or overflow in peak hours, and you've made a complete fool of not only yourself but me and my team. Our funding is going to get slashed if the mayor's office gets wind of this..."

He goes on and on while she mostly tunes him out and blinks rapidly, trying to get her vision to focus. She clenches her jaw. She doesn't care about the funding or Gold's reputation, but she is livid that a half-naked crook beat her and ruined her perfect streak. This is going to set her back months in Gold's eyes. She may even remain in the junior ranks after Killian, and all he's good for is strutting around twirling his sickle like a baton before he tazes his opponents. No tact at all. She'll die before she lets that fop best her.

Once Gold's done with her, he goes off to lecture a sulking Malcolm. She thinks she has a moment of respite but then her mother enters the ward. "The medic told me you're okay. Lucky, considering you could've gotten a concussion or broken something being thrown like that." She doesn't sound too concerned though. There's no reason to be when they both know her father would patch her up perfectly fine with his moderate healing abilities. "Regina, you need to put a stop to this girl. She's a threat to the public, certainly, but more importantly, her powers directly counter yours. You need to get rid of her before things escalate and she gets too powerful."

"Like you and the Whites?"

She can hear her mother purse her lips when she says, "Exactly."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only reason why Gold is Goldeneye is because of Robert Carlyle's work in that one James Bond movie and Goldeneye was the only villain name that sounded cool. That is literally it.


	2. Chapter 2

Her days continue as usual for the most part, a whirlwind of training and school and double patrols. For a good two weeks, there's neither hide nor hair of the mysterious young woman who'd gotten the best of her. She shuts criminals she comes across down with ruthless efficiency. Not all of them are your typical low-life troublemakers; some of them even have decent powers. One of them gouges a huge chunk out of her helmet that gets dangerously close to her skull. Still, she makes sure to crush them thoroughly, so much so that her mother gives her grudging praise and Gold reminds her that she doesn't need to beat them to an inch of their lives.

One morning, she's puzzling over a prompt for her Chinese politics class when the scanner announces there's another theft in progress at a deli. Ingrid looks up from the reports she's editing at the primary workstation to glance over at her. "Do you think it's your girl?"

Regina clomps toward the garage. "She's not my girl."

It is her.

"Oh, hello," she says conversationally while she stuffs whole dishes of mashed potatoes and roast beef and salad into her backpack. "I was hoping I'd have more time before the heroes showed up to save the day. Windchill and Umbra, right?"

"And who are you?" Ingrid asks, subtly shifting to block the exit.

"Eos."

The cashier has been knocked unconscious by the register, which has been emptied out. Eos notices Regina's gaze. "Yeah, sorry about that. I was hoping to deter him from calling 911 and I guess I got a little carried away."

"I'm not the one you need to apologize to," she snarls, vaulting over the counter to kick her in the chest.

"Oooh, snappy comeback," Ingrid lauds, letting loose a freezing burst of air at the same time, slamming Eos and her backpack against the back wall.

"Hey, _rude_ ," Eos says. “I’m gonna be very upset if you’ve spilled the mashed potatoes.” She's still wearing a sports bra and shorts. It slows her down just enough that instead of blocking Regina's kick, she gets a glancing blow to her torso. She lurches to the side and Regina follows it up with all the rage she's carefully nursed since their first encounter. She keeps slightly out of range of Regina's strikes, dodging the ones that could hit her. Ingrid fires a taser, but it nearly incapacitates Regina instead. So Ingrid uses her power to lift herself into the air, blasting them both back with frigid arctic wind. Regina uses the distraction to throw herself around the girl's ankles and trip her. She clambers on top, trying to put her in a choke, but Eos keeps wriggling and ducking her chin. Ingrid lands lightly behind the counter. When Eos sees that she's outmatched, she bursts into light.

Despite the reinforced polarized coating on her visor, Regina is flung back and blinded again. She can hear Ingrid cursing as Eos makes another escape. She growls and feels her way back to her feet in the midst of what's left of the deli counter, glass crunching under her boots. Gold is not going to be happy that she and a senior hero were defeated at the hands of that one thief.

...

"You have got to be kidding me." Regina hears the swish as Gold throws his hands up as he paces in front of them. "Ingrid, I expected better from you. Regina's got inexperience on her side and this Eos, whoever she is, has a gift that is the complete antithesis of Regina's darkness. But you have been a part of the Sentinels for years. You've brought down much more impressive hazards. And yet you fall prey to the same parlor trick that incapacitated Regina last time. There's a reason why we send out junior heroes supervised, yes? It's so incidents like these don't happen. You're supposed to show her how it's done, have her assist if necessary, but instead you've gone and made complete idiots of us. Again. Mark my words, we're going to see a serious uptick in petty crime now that it's apparent that the almighty Sentinels are losing their touch."

Ingrid doesn't say anything.

"It won't happen again, sir," Regina says.

Gold snorts. "It'd better not." He stalks away.

"How are your ribs?" Regina asks. Ingrid had been hurled through a window.

"Fine." The medic had healed the worst of it before wrapping her torso up and telling her to take it easy for the next week. She'd also told them that there didn't seem to be any lasting damage from being blinded (again, in Regina's case) but it would be best if it didn't happen anymore. Regina had rolled her eyes. As if she did this on purpose.

Regina kicks her heels against the examination table. "I'm sorry I got us yelled at. It's my fault she got away."

"No, like Gold said, I should've known better. We should've gone over a viable strategy instead of just charging in. She's very strong." Ingrid pauses. "The taser wasn't the best idea. You two were too close. And I know you want to defeat her in single hand combat to prove yourself but maybe that's giving her the opportunity to escape scot-free." Regina feels her face flush. "You should try pepper spray next time. See how she likes it when she can't see."

"I'll give it a try," she says grudgingly.

"In the meantime, we should figure out how to counter the sightlessness."

"I already sprayed another UV coating on my visor. It didn't do anything."

"Talk to the techs this time."

No one on the team knows who the techs are. With Gold’s wariness, there was no way they were going to have a rotating roster of interns, even if they all signed the Official Secrets Act. Those things always had a way of falling through. Plus with budget restrictions, it wasn’t as if they could afford to keep a team of geniuses underground to tinker with their equipment. So Gold had partnered with a defense technology company. They sent them new equipment to test in the field in return for repairs and improvements that the heroes needed.

It's not like there aren't villains the Sentinels can't take down, Regina muses as she fills out the request form and tapes up her extra helmet for delivery. There are the Whites, a family of super-powered mobsters who own half the city in real estate. Everyone knows they deal in drug trafficking, forgery, and money laundering among other crimes, but despite Cora's attempts to expose them either through her office or as her alter ego Specter, they've always managed to evade the law.

Another troublesome team are the Damsels of Distress, who are a posse of six women mostly known for property damage and straight-up murder. They work alone for the most part, there have been times when two or more of them collaborate on a crime. It's also been made clear that someone going after one of them will feel the wrath of the whole clique.

But Regina's never heard of an individual escaping the Sentinels not once, but twice. She frowns. Perhaps it would be better to let the senior heroes deal with this troublesome Eos, but her pride won't let her. She won't be able to rest until she's the one who's put her behind bars.

She doubles her training with Gold, making huge strides in her hand-to-hand combat and reactive speed. He still laments her lack of stamina, but comments that she's "doing well enough" with tactical training. She's also learning how to maneuver using her other senses in case she's blinded again, but she's not excelling at that either.

...

One afternoon she's running through the obstacle course on her own, holding her own until she sidesteps a padded car-sized block that tries to ram into her, only to run right into a cushioned bar that's risen out of the floor, clothes-lining her. She grunts as she flops into a heap, the breath knocked out of her.

There's a snicker from the door. She looks up. Zelena's leaning on the door frame. "Well you're certainly going all out, aren't you?"

Regina sits up and wipes her forearm over her sweaty chin. "I need to...put her away...once and for all," she gasps. She can feel her heartbeat pounding behind her eyeballs.

"Ah yes, your nemesis. She's been awfully quiet lately, hasn't she? Perhaps she's biding her time as well, preparing for your next bout."

Regina scowls. "What does she need...to train for? I can't use...my power against her. I've got to defeat her...by combat alone."

Zelena shrugs. "I’m going to be honest here. I binged all of Criminal Minds and I still don’t understand how they think sometimes.”

Regina makes a face. “That’s hardly reliable research.”

Zelena gives her a dirty look and ignores her comment. “If you're looking for more practice, are you in the mood to spar? No weapons, just our powers." The teasing mood has faded. There’s something eager and ugly in her eyes.

Regina sighs and drags her sleeve over her face again. Like her mother, Zelena isn't a teammate that she can defeat. But she supposes she could use the extra experience. She drags herself upright, her guard up. Zelena smirks, entering a command in the wall screen to tuck the obstructions away, before meeting her in the center of the room.

"Until one of us taps out?" Regina asks, gauging the space between them.

"Obviously," Zelena says before she spins, her leg whirling around to catch Regina in the throat.

Her first instinct is to back up, but after weeks of drills with Gold and her mother, she stands her ground and raises her forearm. The force of Zelena's kick reverberates up to her shoulder. She braces herself against the bloom of pain, especially because she's not wearing any gear, but doesn't pause to assess the damage. She winds one arm around Zelena's leg and then pushes, causing her to trip backwards. She keeps her hold on her leg as she falls, trying to maneuver it into a lock and get her to cede.

Zelena's faster than she anticipated though, and twists before she can get a proper hold, keeping her too close to properly execute it. When Regina tries for a headbutt, Zelena somehow gets her legs in between them and kicks her away. Regina looses a haze of darkness.

"Not bad," Zelena huffs. "But you'll have to do better than that."

Regina lunges again, but Zelena's ready for her this time. She uses Regina's momentum to angle a foot on her stomach and grab her collar and throwing her. Regina tries to tuck and roll to minimize the impact, but Zelena doesn't let go. She lands flat on her back with a gasp, her head and spine pounding from the shock. While she tries to breathe, Zelena attempts a headlock but she manages to duck away and get to her feet. Zelena punches blindly and Regina steps in past her guard, pulling her arm over her shoulder before turning and executing a throw herself. This time Regina succeeds in pinning her, stabbing the pressure point at the base of her jaw hard with her thumbs, but Zelena only grunts and intensifies her struggles instead of seizing up in pain like she’s supposed to. She manages to flip onto her side, but Regina grabs hold of her wrist and wrenches her arm into a shoulder lock.

But even as she applies pressure, she knows it's no use. There's a slight blurring of the edges of the room and then suddenly Regina's kneeling on nothing. Zelena is standing again and wastes no time in folding her into a choke hold. This is Zelena's power as Backtrack: being able to reverse time up to a minute and take her opponent by surprise. Regina coughs and pats Zelena's arm, the darkness dissolving around them.

"Nice try," Zelena says as she strides toward the exit. "But you'll never beat me."

Regina lays on the floor for a long time after that, reflecting on the match and trying to find some sort of strategy that will prove her wrong.

...

A few days later, Regina visits Arthur in the sickbay, where he's being patched up by the medic after a run in with Eos. "Met your girl today," he says casually as Dr. Page holds her hands over his eyes.

"She's not my girl," she snaps, crossing her arms.

"Right," he says with a smarmy smirk.

"So? What happened?"

"Oh, same old, same old. I tried my illusions on her and then she rendered them useless with her power and here we are. I kinda forgot that my power is dependent on light."

Regina snorts, glad that her mother isn't around to reprimand her for unladylike behavior. "I can’t believe you're an engineer. I shudder to think of the state of our infrastructure in your hands."

"Whatever. In any case, I thought you'd want to know that she asked about you."

"What?"

"Yeah, something along the lines of 'where's Umbra? Isn't she my assigned nemesis?' Oh, and she asked if you were okay. And she says hi. It was sweet."

"I'm going to beat her into a pulp the next time I see her."

He shrugs. "You do you, girl. It seems like she's missing you, though."

Regina rolls her eyes, forgetting that it's wasted on Arthur, before she pats his hand. "Get better soon so I can kick your ass during training. It’s always a mood booster."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't you have an exam to study for, you nerd?"

"Takes one to know one," she says, taking her leave.

...

Gold is beside himself with fury since apparently his whole team is incompetent. He announces that he’s taking two weeks' leave from his day job as a senior lobbyist at a big-shot Fortune 500 company so he can personally answer any calls that Eos might be responsible for. Regina privately hopes she never shows up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a pro-mob fic. Although Snow may think she's one of the good guys, she's not above getting her hands dirty to get her way, just like in canon.

Meanwhile, just a few blocks away from a police station, Emma exits City Hall, where she's been told that her low-income housing application has been wait-listed for six more months despite working nights full-time. She sighs and turns the collar of her threadbare jacket up. It's the start of autumn and the shelters will be more crowded than ever, not to mention the terrible management and the violence that erupts without notice. She's not thrilled about sleeping on bedbug-infested cots, even in the best of times, but it'll be better than braving the freezing nights, especially with Henry to think about.

Just as she's about to cross the street to head down to the metro, a sleek unmarked town car pulls up to block her way. A broad-shouldered man in a suit jumps out and holds the door open as a petite, round-faced young woman with a pixie cut leans out to peer at her. "Emma Swan?"

She's already turning to bolt when the woman adds, "Come with me and I'll get you and your son off the streets."

Emma freezes. The fact that this stranger knows so much about her raises her hackles, but she’s said the one thing that could get Emma to hesitate. She's desperate and with the threat of winter coming soon, she isn’t sure if she keep Henry safe and healthy through the next few months without real shelter. So she swallows her panic and ducks into the car. Besides, if anything goes wrong, she reasons, she can rip open the aluminum of the car with her power and escape.

She's sandwiched in between two identical men as the car pulls away from the curb. The girl appraises her for a minute, taking in her holey sneakers and ratty, stained jeans before extending her hand across the aisle. "Hello, I'm Snow White. I must say, you look quite different with clothes on."

"Excuse me?" But Emma shakes her hand reluctantly nonetheless.

"When you're robbing people you're always in a sports bra and shorts."

She tenses. Snow notices because she says, "Relax, Emma, I'm not here to turn you in. The law is no friend to my family either. In fact, I'm here to offer you a job."

"I have a job," she says guardedly.

"Where you're only making minimum wage and we all know that's not enough to live on, even if you're working overtime. No, if you accept my offer you're guaranteed a base salary of $50,000 as well as full benefits and a two bed, one bath apartment, fully furnished with complete amenities. We also provide childcare if you need it."

It's too good to be true. And Emma hasn't survived this long by trusting anyone. "What do you want from me?"

Snow smiles. "My family has stakes in some industries that the Sentinels don't approve of. Specter in particular is determined to bring about the downfall of our company and partners. And from what we've seen of you, we're confident you'd be a good fit for this opening."

“What would I be doing?”

“Oh, you’ll just be a contingency plan in case Specter shows up to meddle in our affairs as she’s known to do occasionally.”

"How am I supposed to do that? I've never even met her."

"You've defeated several of the Sentinels on separate occasions, most notably Umbra. And we have insider information that indicates that Umbra and Specter's powers share similarities beyond controlling aspects of shadows. The two of them are closely related. There's evidence that what counters one will have similar effects on the other. So basically what we’re asking is if Specter makes an appearance, you give her the ole razzle dazzle." She accents her words with jazz hands.

Emma raises her eyebrows. "And you trust this information enough to bank on hiring a nobody to base your defense on?"

Snow nods. "We're very impressed by the reports on you."

"How do you know so much about me?"

She laughs. "Emma, we're a multi-million dollar player on the black market. Don't you think it's pretty easy to grease a few palms to find out what we want?" She leans forward and drops her voice, her eyes twinkling. "Even if that wasn't the case, that's my specialty: finding out secrets. For example, David here is saving up for an engagement ring for yours truly. Isn't that charming?"

The guy on Emma’s left sputters incoherently for a couple seconds before sighing.

Emma mulls this over. If she were on her own, maybe she'd be more hesitant about handing her future over to someone she met a few minutes ago. But with Henry to consider, there's really no choice. They were lucky last year and had a bed for the majority of the winter. There's no guarantee of the same happening this time around. Not to mention she’s barely making enough to make ends meet as is, without factoring in extra expenses like a new coat and boots for Henry. The kid is growing like a weed.

Still, she'd be an idiot to agree beforehand without seeing the goods. "Alright, but I want to see the place first. And I need to see where I'll be working. And your childcare place. Everything has to be written out and I want a copy."

"Obviously. Should we make an appointment for later or is now a good time?"

Emma thinks about how much time she set aside to go over her application with the Department of Housing. Mrs. Grace, the woman she left Henry with, won't be expecting her back for at least three more hours. "No. Let's do it now. I don't have anywhere to be for the next few hours."

"Here's a burner phone if you need to get in contact with us. I'm on speed dial 2. Here's my business card, just in case."

It reads Snow White in all capital block letters and then below that in smaller print, crime overlord-in-training. Emma stares at it dubiously but doesn't say anything. Snow continues on about how she gets an employee discount on rent and their insurance is phenomenal and how they cover all aspects of health including vision and dental, and also provide life. She's going into detail about the 401K program (Emma doesn’t even know what that is) when they arrive at a nondescript set of warehouses at the wharf. There are plenty of people in reflective vests and helmets scurrying about as they load pallets with boxes and move other merchandise with forklifts.

"Welcome to White Industries. Well, one branch of it, at least. We have other locations but it’s best to be discreet about those since a lot of what we do isn’t technically...legal," Snow says as one of the bodyguards helps her out of the car.

"What is all this?"

"We augment our real estate business with worldwide shipping with our fleet. Ore, grain, oil, wine, you name it, we'll ship it. We're not one of the main competitors by any means, but we do make excellent quarterly profits."

They follow her to a walled-off corner of one of the warehouses. It's been redone with bold colors and small furniture with rounded corners. There's even a ball pit. It reminds Emma of Smaland at Ikea.

"This is our childcare center so everyday can be Bring Your Child To Work day. Of course we're licensed with the state and we have five full-time staff certified in CPR/AED training and first aid through the Red Cross. Two also hold early learning education degrees so rest assured your son will be safe in an educational environment."

"How much is it?"

"Seven hundred a month."

Emma frowns. Is that reasonable? Hell if she knows. All the past few years have taught her is whether or not she's getting a deal on a ten pack of ramen.

"I'm told it's a very affordable rate in the city," Snow adds.

She nods hesitantly. She'll budget everything out when she gets the first paycheck.

"Any questions?"

She shakes her head slowly, still trying to process everything.

"Great! To your new apartment then."

It's not too fancy, which Emma notes with relief as they pull into the parking lot. Going from homeless to a luxury building is bound to raise suspicion with the state. Still, it's clean and quiet and doesn't look like the sort of place where drug dealers hang out, which is all she's looking for. Snow shows Emma around the estate, pointing out the closed pool and the shabby fitness room. Her bodyguards keep close as she talks about property values and their support for form-based code, whatever that means.

"How do you know so much about this stuff?" Her head is spinning from the technical jargon alone.

"My family is known for real estate. I'm working on my license," Snow chirps.

She leads them into a second-floor open plan apartment. While she goes over the quality of the tiling and how they just got all the kitchen units redone, Emma checks the roof for leaks and any evidence of pests. Her throat closes up momentarily when she sits on the mattress in one of the bedrooms. Henry could sleep in an actual bed for the rest of the foreseeable future.

Snow stands in the doorway. "So what do you think? It could be yours." She dangles a set of keys from her fingers.

Emma swallows past the lump. "Let me see the lease."

They sit at the table and go through it together. Snow is very patient with her and explains every clause she finds ambiguous.

“You don’t have to sign today,” Snow says. “Take a few days to think about it.”

“No,” Emma says, taking a deep breath. “If I overthink it, I’ll scare myself into backing out. I need to do this now. It’s our best chance.”

So with shaking fingers, she signs.

"Excellent. I knew you'd see it our way. Now we'll just pick up your son and your belongings and you're all set.”

It doesn't take much to move. Emma only has two garbage bags worth of stuff, mostly clothes and toiletries. She didn't have a lot to begin with when she got out of prison.

“We’ll be in touch to set up your orientation and direct deposit and the rest," Snow says when she drops Emma and Henry off at the apartment complex.

“An orientation? Like icebreakers and company videos and stuff?”

“Of course. We may be criminals, Emma, but we’re not savages. You deserve to know your rights and get all that information on your benefits on paper like you were asking before. Someone will give you a call to schedule it at your earliest convenience.”

“Oh.” Emma blinks. It all hasn’t quite sunk in yet. “Okay.”

Snow waves and David (or his twin, Emma can’t tell them apart) climbs back into the car and slams the door. Emma watches the car pull out of the lot and then hauls the bags over one shoulder with one hand and takes Henry’s hand with the other as they climb up the stairs to their unit.

Henry is still clutching her hand when she drops the bags on the floor of their new apartment. He tilts his head to look up at her. "Mama, where this?"

"Home,” she says, her voice soft. “This is home."

...

Regina's in trouble. Her comm has been smashed in the brawl. Emergency services still haven’t shown up yet. Arthur's out cold on the floor as the frat house burns around them. She pulled an all-nighter cramming for a midterm and she can barely keep her eyes open, let alone fight effectively, especially with the smoke. Her reflexes are shot and she grunts as she gets socked right in the stomach. There’s a thundering crash and then debris rains down around her. She covers her head to ward off the worst of it but still screams as a chunk of rubble crushes her leg and something crunches. Her vision flickers.  _ Goddammit _ , she thinks.  _ Eos isn't even here and I’m going blind again _ .

"Nothing personal," Erinys says, straightening her suit jacket (a Damsels of Distress trademark) with a snap before she starts to press her heel on her windpipe. Her red hair is a disheveled halo framing her face and with Regina’s dimming vision, makes her look like her head’s on fire. Erinys’ demon mask seems even more realistic than usual as it leers down at Regina. Panic shoots through her as she realizes that she’s going to die.

Her eyes roll wildly, catching sight of a shadowed form in the doorway for a split second before it tackles Erinys. She falls in a heap, but rises, snarling. This time, the figure delivers a wicked uppercut. Erinys crashes into a wall and doesn't get back up. Her savior turns, and Eos’ face is illuminated by the flames.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Regina mutters as the building begins to shift and groan.

Eos hunches over her. "Hey! Are you okay?" Regina notices she’s clad not in her usual fare but in a black leather jumpsuit.

"Go away!" she shouts over the roar of the flames before dissolving into a fit of coughing. Her helmet strains out some of the smoke but its filters are starting to fail. The last thing she needs is her nemesis to gloat while she dies in a fiery wreck.

But Eos glances at Arthur's body, her eyes streaming from the smoke. "You can’t get him out! Can you even walk?”

She staggers upright and grits her teeth against the pain. "More or less," she wheezes before there’s a nasty pop and she goes down.

"Right, okay. Stay here!" Eos starts dragging Arthur outside.

Well, fuck that. She has no intention of suffocating while waiting for Eos to rescue her like some helpless victim. She tries her best to crawl towards the exit, snarling when she jostles her bad leg. Eos hauls Erinys out as well before coming back for her.

“Let me go! I don’t need your help.” She flails about as Eos slides her arms under her armpits.

"You expect me to let you die?”

“I’m doing fine! You saved the other two, you can leave now!” Speaking, let alone shouting, feels like she’s inhaling embers, but she can’t really do anything else to convince Eos to stop playing hero.

“A sloth could outrun you. Let me get you out too and then I’ll go.”

The ceiling above them creaks ominously. Eos swears and starts dragging her too, but stops when Regina, caught off guard, cries out as her broken leg jolts from the motion. Before Regina can protest, Eos lifts her and charges outdoors.

She lets her down with a groan next to the others. "Ugh, been awhile since I've done that."

"Ow ow ow! Set me down gently.” It’s a relief to suck in lungfuls of freezing air again, even if it burns her singed throat.

Eos puts her hands on her hips and stretches her back. "Seriously? You're complaining about how I saved your life?"

Regina perks up at the sound of sirens in the distance. "The firefighters will be here soon. It's not like we were really in danger."

Behind them, the house collapses with a rumble and an explosion of sparks.

"Uh huh.”

"I would've figured something out."

Eos grins at her. Regina notices that she has lovely sage green eyes, especially when they stand out against her sooty skin. "I would say you know where to find me if you need my help again, but I can't give up my air of mystery."

Regina eyes the distance between them, trying to gauge whether she can take her down and restrain her without further damaging her leg. Probably not. "I've been meaning to track you down and apprehend you for crimes against the state anyway. You could just make it easier for me."

"Nah, you probably wouldn't even come see me in prison on visiting days."

Firetrucks and police cruisers round the corner, sirens blaring.

"That's my cue. See you around." Eos gives her a mocking two finger salute and turns to leave.

"Wait, one last thing," Regina calls out.

Eos pauses.

"Why did you save me?"

She shrugs. "Can’t a girl save her rival just because?"

With that, she takes off down an alley and vanishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's why Snow's hair in the Enchanted Forest was so big. It was full of secrets.


	4. Chapter 4

As per Sentinel regulations, she's free from training and patrols for a week after being seriously injured, or more than what their doctor can heal in one sitting. She hates this part. All her life her schedule has been so tightly regulated she doesn't know what to know what to do with so much free time. Her leg isn't even an issue anymore. The medic healed most of it and then her father fussed over her, so it feels like she only twisted her ankle or something. She requests extra hours at the senator's office and throws herself into preparing for the yearly Model UN summit.

It still doesn't distract her from Eos. She's been mysteriously quiet these past few months. Why did she show up now all of a sudden? Why was she wearing a leather jumpsuit? Why wouldn't she have worn it before if it didn't impede her abilities? Where has she been? What has she been doing? If anything, the rescue attempt enrages her even further. Before they had your average hero-villain dynamic but now Regina owes her. And Regina Mills does not accept handouts. She'll be damned if she lets Eos get away with saving her when she clearly didn't need to be saved.

It's a relief when she can don her costume and walk into headquarters again.

"What did I miss?" she asks as she meets Gold in the training chamber.

"The Damsels busted Erinys out of prison before she could be sentenced." He enters a code into the command center and the obstacles whir to life. A hologram of a silhouette appears on the mats.

"Not surprising."

"Otherwise, a few high speed chases, some domestics, a murder or two, just the usual." He retrieves a pack of throwing knives from a storage cabinet and tosses one from hand to hand. "Ready?"

She nods. "So nothing from Eos?"

He throws the first knife. She ducks and sprints after the hologram, which has begun to dart across the floor.

"Nothing. How's Cora taking it? Has she heard Eos saved you?"

She vaults over a bar, slides under another, slowing for a split second so the knife embeds itself in the wall instead of her shoulder. "No," she shouts over the hum of the machines. "She's too busy with attorney general stuff to pay much attention to me. She's also trying to build her case on the Whites again so she's hardly home."

She spins, missing two knives, and narrowly dodges a rotating beam. She's not sure what that could represent in the real world, but she doesn't spend more than a second thinking about it. All the senior heroes could tell you horror stories about things they've had to deal with in the field.

Gold throws a series of knives rapid-fire and Regina isn't quite fast enough to evade all of them. She gasps and stumbles as one cuts across the skin of her back, but doesn't stop in her pursuit of the hologram. They keep going until he runs out of knives.

"Not bad," he says at the end of her run. "That was an adequate attempt at keeping up with the target even under attack. You have a passable tolerance for pain in the line of duty. If only you were doing as well in your other areas of training." He checks his watch. "We're done here. Get patched up. I'll see you Monday."

She feels the wound gingerly, wincing when she sees how much it's bleeding. Must've torn it open even more while she was running around. Luckily it doesn't seem too deep.

Zelena glowers at her when she enters the medical ward, her ankle twisted at an odd angle. Zelena’s recently graduated from the junior hero ranks, but evidently it hasn't been easy for her.

"Bad day on patrol?"

"Among other things," Zelena sneers.

"Where's the doctor?"

She jerks her head upstairs. "She ran out to buy crutches. Ingrid has the second pair and Malcolm lost the first ones, so she'll be a while. What did you need her for?"

Regina flashes her her back.

"Oh dear," Zelena says, although she doesn’t sound very sorry. "That doesn't look good at all. It's starting to clot at least, but it looks puffy and infected. Who knows how long the doctor will be gone for? You should at least let me clean it."

"Do you know what you're doing?"

She scoffs. "Please, I'm nearly a doctor myself."

"You’re getting your PhD in history, not an MD." But Regina lays on her stomach on the examining table anyway.

Zelena tears open the rest of Regina's shirt before she hops along, opening cabinets and rifling through them. "Aha!" Regina hears her hobble back towards her and unscrew a cap. "This is gonna hurt like a bitch." Is it just her imagination or does she sound oddly gleeful?

"Ready when you are." But she still bangs her head on the table and swears profusely when the peroxide bubbles over her wound. 

Just then, Dr. Page bursts into the room with a pair of crutches. "What's happening? Who's screaming?"

"I wasn't screaming," Regina mumbles, her face still pressed against the table.

"Sorry, doctor. I was just cleaning out her wound. I didn't know how long you'd be gone and it looked quite serious," Zelena says, her voice cloyingly sweet.

Regina feels a towel mopping up the mess and then cool hands on her skin. "Well it's not what I would've done, but you did the best you could with your limited knowledge," Dr. Page says crisply.

"Excuse me, I'll have you know—"

"Medical knowledge. I'll deal with you next. Mills, hold still. You'll be out of here in no time." She feels the familiar itching sensation of her flesh knitting back together for a few seconds before the doctor spreads a salve on her back. "Just to help with the scarring. You should be able to get back to your patrols tomorrow." She hands her a new shirt and shoos her out.

...

That evening, Regina's muttering to herself and flipping through pages of her Public Affairs textbook at her desk when her mother lays her hands on her shoulders. Regina jumps.

"Mother! You scared me." She cranes her neck to look up at her.

"Gold told me you did very well in training today."

"He did? That's not what he told me."

"He's hard on you because he wants you to be the best. As do I. You understand that, don't you?" She runs her fingers through Regina's hair. Regina sits very still. "My childhood was difficult. We were desperately poor, and yet your grandfather was a irresponsible, unreliable drunkard. The only thing he taught me was that the only person I could depend on was myself. I worked my way up from nothing. I graduated top of my class and worked two jobs to pay my way through Amherst and law school.”

Regina has heard this talk too many times to count, but doesn’t interrupt.

“It’s because of all that effort I put in that I’m attorney general now. And you, being born into a situation where you have opportunities abound, must stand on what I've achieved and surpass it. Everything I've done, dear, I've done for you. You've had the best of everything I could give you. And all I’ve ever wanted was for you to be comfortable and secure. You never have to suffer indignity as I did growing up."

Regina doesn't say anything. Guilt is creeping its way up her spine. How could she complain when it's clear how much her mother has sacrificed for her?

"I know you're working so hard, but it's all adding up. Look at you, well on your way to becoming someone extraordinary. Your crime fighting is letting you experience the legal system firsthand. Not to mention all the networking you're getting in. After law school and making partner at a respectable law firm, you’ll cinch the title of governor or senator and you'll work your way into the Presidential Cabinet, perhaps Secretary of State. With that degree of influence and power, no one will look down on you like they once did me. That's all I want for you, darling. That doesn't sound so unreasonable, does it?"

"No, Mother."

She presses a kiss to the top of her head. "That's my girl. Dinner will be in an hour."

...

Crime drops with the falling temperatures as winter sinks its teeth into the city. It's too cold for illegal shenanigans. The tech team sends them thermal insulators for the costumes when they do need to go out. They've also stopped fiddling with her helmet. She doesn't blame them. They've got all sorts of requests from the Sentinels and there hasn't been any mention of Eos for a month and a half.

"Maybe she's left town," Ingrid says when she brings it up during a quiet night in front of the monitors. Ingrid's frown is illuminated by the glow of her tablet screen as she crosses out some statistics vigorously and scribbles something in the margins. She owns a beloved local chain of ice cream shops, which more or less run themselves on a day-to-day basis, freeing her to split her time between crunching numbers and running after villains in tights.

"Maybe," Regina says. She stifles the panic that rises in her chest. She still owes Eos for saving her. If she's gone, that'll mean Regina will owe her forever. She doesn't want that hanging over her for the rest of her life.

...

The day of her promotion to senior hero is met with lackluster recognition. Gold simply walks into headquarters and says, "Mills, you're on patrol alone today. Don't make me regret it."

The first few days are fine. She leaves a minor powered villain tied up outside a bank for the police and pummels a few muggers around the college campus. It's nice being able to get things done without having to ask for permission for every little thing. It helps that Thanksgiving break is just around the corner. She's not quite so bogged down with schoolwork. Her professors are easing up for the week off before they kick everything into high gear for the last weeks of the semester and finals. 

She just finishes up intervening in a gang scuffle and is about to take one last round through the warehouse district before heading back to base when a jumpy teenager approaches her. "Um, she told me to give this to you," she says, thrusting a folded note at her before running off.

_ End of Pier 11, 9pm tonight -E _

Regina frowns. Who the hell is E? She doesn't know anyone she'd have business with an E name...unless it's Eos. She rolls her eyes. This is the dumbest attempt at an ambush she's ever seen, but she supposes she owes it to her to listen to what she has to say before she brings her ass in to be booked. She's got twenty minutes. Just enough time to do a cursory sweep of the warehouse district. With any luck, there'll be at least one incident she needs to take care of, preferably with her fists, and she'll  _ conveniently _ not be able to meet Eos.

Unfortunately, all is well.

At 8:57, she strolls to the end of the pier, one hand gripping her pepper spray just in case. She can't help hearing Gold's voice berating her for trusting a villain's word that this won't turn out terribly wrong, but she's just the right mix of reckless and curious to push that aside.

Eos is sitting at the very edge, dangling her legs over empty air as she leans her arms on the lower rung of the safety rail. She turns and grins as she hears Regina's measured steps. "Hey, didn't think you'd show up."

"You did save my life. I'll give you five minutes before I cuff you."

"Oh, come on. Sit down. I just wanna talk."

"I'll stay right here, thanks." She’s a good seven feet away, enough to buy her a split second to ready herself in case something happens.

"It's fine, only me. No one knows I'm here. Pinky swear."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you. Four and half minutes."

"Okay, how about this. You let your team know where you are, and if you don't give them a signal at the end of say, a half hour, they can call in the cavalry."

Regina wavers. It’s not an unreasonable plan of action.

"I'll let you cuff me if you sit next to me."

"Fine." If it comes to worst case scenario, she'll be able to use Eos as a human shield. She’s not proud of that thought, but she thinks it. She tries to convince herself that she's already doing her a favor by listening to what she has to say, but she knows better.

Eos clasps her hands behind her back gamely and lets Regina restrain her. "My safe word's pineapple."

"Charming."

She grins. "I try my best. Sit." She nods to the spot next to her.

Regina does, but makes sure to leave some space between them. "Okay, spill. What did you want to talk about?"

"How was your week?"

"I don't care about social pleasantries, I want to know what—"

"No, I mean it. That's what I wanna know."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Is it so hard to believe that I'd want to know how you're doing?"

Regina narrows her eyes. The effect is lost behind her opaque visor. "I don't know what you're playing at, first saving me and now this, but I don't like it. What have you been up to the last few months anyway? No one's seen you."

Eos shrugs. "I got a new job. Keeps me busy and out of trouble. It's better than what I'm used to."

"Hmm." Now that she mentions it, Regina does notice that her hair seems sleeker, her skin not so sallow. She's gained some much needed weight, her face fuller and some muscle on her frame under that jumpsuit. "They gave you a...uniform?"

She grins. "Sure, if you wanna call it that. You like it? Does it make me look like ScarJo?"

“Marginally.” She frowns. “So how does that work? Why did you go from shorts and a sports bra to this? Does it tamper with your power?”

“No. It’s specially made — photosensitive — so it conducts rather than blocks my power. Look.” Her forearm starts to light up. Regina tears her gaze away but it stays a dim glow. Eos laughs. “Relax. I’m not gonna blind you again. Yet, anyway.”

“I’d prefer if you stopped doing that altogether.” So it seems like Eos can control the strength of her power. Regina supposes she shouldn’t be surprised but reminds herself to follow up on it, just in case her hypothesis is wrong.

Eos shrugs. “That’s really up to you.”

“Well, I'm glad that things are looking up for you. However, it doesn't change the fact that you've broken the law and need to suffer the consequences."

"They teach you to talk like that in the Sentinels?"

"What? No. What's wrong with the way I talk?"

"Nothing usually, until you start talking about the law. Then it sounds like you swallowed a textbook."

Regina bristles. That's a little too close to her real identity for her comfort. "You have to be passionate about justice to do good."

Eos snorts. "Tell that to all the politicians. They never seem to do much of anything."

Is she that easy to read? Does Eos somehow know that her mother is a politician and she aspires to be one herself? Or is it just a throwaway comment? She suppresses her alarm. "Fine. To be a hero then. What's the point of being a hero if you bend the rules when it's most convenient for you? It's not fair that way."

"Is that why you joined the Sentinels?"

The honest answer is no. She hadn't planned on being a hero at all, really. Her mom was always even more prickly than usual when she came back from another failed bout with the Whites. An extra job that made her grumpy wasn't exactly on little Regina's list of choice careers. But as with most things, her mother more or less bullied her into joining the ranks of the junior heroes when a spot opened up. It'll be good for your resume, she'd said. Think of it as a leg up above your peers. But that's not information she volunteers, especially to her nemesis.

"Yes," she says instead. "I've always wanted to be one of the good guys."

Eos side eyes her. 

"Why? Did you always plan on being a thief?" she snaps. The second she says it, she realizes it might've been too harsh. Her stomach drops as Eos' jaw tightens. But so what? It's not like they're friends or anything. She doesn't have to be nice to her.

"Look, some people will always take advantage of others. But I think most people are inherently good, and sometimes shit happens and it gets worse and worse until you don't know what to do, and then you've gotta survive any way you know how," she replies, her voice tight.

The weight in Regina's gut intensifies until she delicately says, "I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Me too."

"Remorse doesn't change anything. Not in robbery charges at least."

Eos rolls her eyes. "You're really not helping your case."

They watch the waves in silence.

"Why am I here?" Regina asks after a minute.

Eos sighs, her breath clouding in the cold air. "Every atom that makes us up was once forged in the heat of stars—"

"Don't be an idiot. I meant why are you talking to me here, alone? Who was that kid that delivered your note anyway? Do you have an army of street urchins at your beck and call or...?"

"This isn't Victorian London. She was my taskrabbit."

"She seemed very nervous for a law-abiding citizen."

Eos grins at her. "You're very intimidating in your black ensemble, especially with your helmet on. And your motorcycle. You look like a scion of vengeance."

"That was what I was going for, actually." She can't help preening a bit.

"But it doesn't inspire confidence in the masses."

“Neither does a leather jumpsuit.”

“Yeah, but I’m a villain, aren’t I?”

“Undoubtedly.” But Regina pauses and says grudgingly, “However, most villains I’ve seen wouldn’t come charging into a burning building to pull out three people either. So…” She clears her throat before she forces the words out. “Thank you. I realize that I forgot to mention that in the heat of the moment.”

Eos laughs. “Pun intended?”

“What? Oh, yes, I suppose so.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Regina seethes. She hates it when people brush it off like her owing them is no big deal because then there’s no fair trade-off right away and the deed sits and festers. But she also doesn’t need Eos to know that she has leverage over her. She brushes that aside and says instead, “What’s been bothering me is how you knew I was in danger in the first place.”

At this, Eos fidgets, kicking her legs out in the open space. “Ha, I was hoping you’d overlook that, actually.”

Regina frowns. “Why? Have you been stalking me?”

“No! I mean, following maybe. And not physically, at least.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You see...I may have been tracking your exploits via police scanner.”

“So you’re a hobbyist. Listen, have you noticed that Hirudo hardly ever takes calls or is that just me?”

Eos tips her head back, her expression pained. “I’ve actually only been paying attention when it’s you.”

“Oh.” Regina isn’t sure how to feel about that. Should she be creeped out? Flattered? Both?

“Usually when you’re sent on a call, it takes twenty, thirty minutes tops before you call in the police to pick up whatever criminal you’ve gift-wrapped for them. Even the ones with powers. But that day, it’d been close to an hour and when there was nothing but radio silence, on a fire, no less, I started to get worried. And I had some time so I decided to stop by and well, you know the rest.”

“You have impeccable timing.”

“That was luck.”

“Why though? Why listen in on what I’ve been doing? Why save me? Why are we meeting in secret?” Regina can’t help the irritation that colors her tone. “Or do you like to exchange gossip and drop in and save all the heroes in your free time?”

Eos makes a noise of frustration and shakes her head. The cuffs jangle. “I can’t explain it. There’s something about you I can’t put my finger on.”

Regina raises an eyebrow. There’s being enemies and then there’s obsession. It’s best not to toe the line too close. “We hardly know each other.”

“I know!” she huffs. “And trust me, normally the last thing I’d be doing is seeking someone out who actively wants to put me away.”

"It's reassuring that you've staked your freedom on this mere whim," Regina says dryly.

"It's not a whim. I'm not half-bad at reading people and I was pretty confident you'd hear me out." There's a beat as she mulls something over. "I guess...I saw something in you that reminded me of myself. I thought we might be more alike than at first sight with the whole hero-villain, darkness vs light dynamic."

"Oh? And what has a few confrontations taught you about me?"

There's a crackle that startles both of them. Regina jumps, Eos flinches as a tiny voice says, "Umbra, what's your status?"

"10-4." She silences her comm. "Alright Eos, let's get you to booking. Your half hour's up." She stands and reaches for her bound hands but finds that Eos has managed to maneuver them back in front of her and slip the cuffs off her wrists, sliding a handcuff key back behind an ear. She gets up and takes a few steps backwards, tossing Regina her handcuffs.

"Okay, but technically I only agreed to the handcuffs, not being arrested."

Regina has her pepper spray in hand in a flash. "Don't you dare."

But it's too late. She jams the nozzle down as Eos winks before the whole world goes white. Evidently she doesn't hit her because instead of the sweet sound of pained howling, she hears, "This was fun. We should do it again" and then the solid clunking of someone sprinting on wooden slats.

The glow fades. Regina sighs and bangs her head against the pier’s railing. She's really getting sick of leaving nearly every encounter with Eos blind.

She's too ashamed to go stumbling back to headquarters after not even a week of being on patrol on her own and she obviously can't ride back at all, so she sits on a bench and listens to her Advanced Mandarin exercises to wait it out. To her pleasant surprise, it doesn't take as long as she'd thought. The last few times she met Eos, it always took at least a few hours before any of her sight returned. This time though, it only takes less than an hour before her vision starts swimming with spots.

This confirms that Eos has control over how much damage her power wreaks. There’s no physical damage to the pier this time, unlike the property damage she's seen before. She makes a mental note to add it to Eos’ file when she gets back to base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my mom has been pulling the "look how much I've sacrificed for you" guilt-trip my entire life and yet when I tried to write it down, it just doesn't sound...quite right? Help me out, fam, what am I missing?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, I was disappointed (but not surprised) in season 6. Like how do you mess up when you double Lana's screen time? Whatever. But you know one thing the writers got right? Giving Cinderella a shotgun.

Thanksgiving is a quiet affair. The day itself is like any other. Regina spends most of her time catching up on homework and perfecting her argument for the Model UN Conference in Chicago in a few days. Her mother is sequestered in her office, flipping through important forms and slashing through wide swaths of text with her fountain pen. Her father makes spaghetti for dinner.

She’s scheduled for patrols all day on Black Friday, swooping in and tearing apart overzealous shoppers. Zelena sends her a selfie of her clutching an assortment of hats. The background is littered with fallen people with her distinctive bootprints marking their bodies. The text simply says, "SO GLAD YOU'RE NOT HERE BECAUSE IT'S ALL MINE." Regina sighs, wishing she were out trampling people for deals too.

She gets a day to rest before she flies to Chicago. It's nothing new, but she's still more relieved than she'd like to let on to pretend she's just another college student, without her overbearing mother breathing down her neck and the responsibilities of her alter ego weighing on her mind. At the conference, she fumbles a bit in the beginning to successfully argue Greece's position on the influx of refugees but finds herself sliding into her comfort zone as a teammate begins a debate that they've practiced a dozen times.

They win second place. She's exhausted at the end of the third day but doesn't say no when they decide to go out for drinks. They all crowd into a booth, bright-eyed college students still riding their high. Since she turned 21, she hasn't had more than a sip of champagne at New Year's but she finds herself holding a Long Island Iced Tea.

Eventually their chatter turns from the tournament to what they'd like to do after school. It's like her mother's Christmas parties where she likes to show her off like a blue ribbon prize dog, but not as unbearable. For one, everyone sounds genuinely excited about their plans instead of the casual offhand tone her mother uses when she brags that Regina's guaranteed a spot at an Ivy League law school based on her practice LSAT scores. Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the realization that she lacks the passion that her teammates lace their words with, but sorrow and an odd sense of longing tightens in her chest. The bar feels too small all of sudden. She downs the rest of her drink and smacks a bill onto the table.

"I'm turning in," she says, shrugging into her coat. Although she doesn't slur, her voice sounds distant and echoey. She decides she doesn't much like the way alcohol affects her.

On the way back to the hotel, she almost wishes that someone would try messing with her. She feels brittle and itchy, her skin buzzing with a mix of agitation and indignation. If she were at home, this wouldn't be a problem. She'd pick up an extra patrol and lurk around the seedier parts of town until she could find someone to beat up. But she's not at home, and she can't risk accidentally revealing her power and then having someone connect the dots. 

For better or worse, nothing happens.

...

When she strides into headquarters the next day, Malcolm glances at her before going back to his newspaper. "Where have you been?"

"Conference in Chicago." She makes a beeline for the training room.

"What? How come you can take off for business trips?"

She rolls her eyes. "Because it was for school. You know that if you can show Gold proof that you did anything job-related on your 'business trips' to Aruba, he'd grant your numerous requests."

"Does he think looking this good is effortless? I put a lot of work into my tan."

She thought that maybe leaving Chicago would cure her of the unsettling feeling constricting her ribs, but if anything it's only grown. The punching bag sways back and forth as she boxes, but not even sweat stinging her eyes and the cramp in her side loosen it. She gives up after twenty minutes and pulls on her suit.

"Going out on patrol," she mutters as she passes Malcolm.

"Uh huh, have fun." He licks his finger and flips the page.

Junior heroes are only allowed to accompany senior heroes on calls that come in, but as a senior hero herself now, Regina can go on proactive patrols, or as she likes to call it, “looking for trouble.”

There's not a lot going on, at least not after the frenzy of Black Friday. Still, she finds Assurance at the old trainyard, wielding her signature shotgun, and having a classic gunfight with what looks like several reputable businessmen. Assurance's thing is expert marksmanship. She's pretty dangerous since Regina's suit can't deflect bullets, but her power only works if she has a clear view of what's she's aiming at. It's easy enough to sneak onto the scene before clouding the air with darkness.

"Dammit Umbra, I wasn't finished!" she shouts, even as Regina takes her down and cuffs her.

"Sorry. You know I can't condone murder." She eyes Assurance’s boots appreciatively, but says nothing. The Damsels of Distress are known for their style. They all wear sharp-cut three-piece suits and demon masks but there are differences in each mask and outfit. For example, she’s noticed that Assurance in particular has great taste in shoes.

Assurance twists under her, wrinkling her single-breasted jacket and loosening her blond hair from her bun. "You don't know what they were doing!"

"Regardless, I doubt it's worth their lives." Regina hauls her up.

Assurance glares at her from behind her mask, a face contorted into torment with a teardrop running down one cheek. Her blue eyes are icy. "What's the point of being a hero if you're going to let people like them,” she jerks her chin at the still bodies, “get away with despicable crimes?"

Unbeknownst to her, several other Damsels have dealt with the few stragglers that Assurance missed and pulled open a railcar door. They usher out haggard, shadowy forms, including very many children. "Oh."

"Yeah," Assurance says, her voice flinty.

She taps her comm. "Umbra here. I've got a situation here down at the trainyard. Requesting any available officers to help relocating a large number of people." She tightens her grip on Assurance. "This still isn't the way to do it."

"No, you'd rather have the law hem and haw while thousands of people suffer. I'm willing to do whatever it takes right now. That's the difference between us."

Then there's a flash of movement followed by a dull smack and Regina flies backwards. The force of the punch makes her tumble head over heels several times before she skids to a stop on her back. She gasps as pain roars down her neck and through her shoulders and arms.

"Thanks Erinys," Assurance says. "Do you mind?"

There's a crunching sound. It sounds like Erinys has crushed the handcuffs because she hears Assurance shaking out her hands and what's left of the cuffs clinking together. The Sentinels still aren't sure what Erinys' power is. It seems to be a type of super strength, but there's some sort of constraint on it. There are times Regina's been sure she could take her, and obviously there are times she underestimates her.

"Should we take care of her?" Erinys asks. Her voice is surprisingly soft, Regina thinks. She has an accent as well. Irish?

"No, I don't think so. Primer won't be very happy if we tip her hand."

Regina takes note of this. Primer is the so-called leader of the Damsels, but no one’s even seen her. It's worrying that she's orchestrating something that might have to do with her and the Sentinels. As for the death threat, she's not too worried about that. Most of them try not to kill the heroes if they can help it. They’re so sick of hearing about the heroes in the media, killing one would only serve to turn a hero into a martyr and increase their exposure tenfold. But Regina frowns, remembering that this is the second time Erinys has alluded to killing her. She seems a little too eager for blood for Regina's comfort. They'll have to keep an eye on her.

Once police sirens can be heard, the Damsels scatter. Regina lifts her hand to her comm and taps twice for the Sentinel's private channel, careful not to bump her neck. "This is Umbra. Send the medic in. I think I might've broken my neck."

Dr. Page sighs on the line. "I'm on my way."

She assumes the police start wrangling people into order and make calls to social services and the mayor and whoever else needs to be involved. There's the low murmur of a crowd all talking at once. She lays very still and stares up at the clouds scuttling their way across the rapidly darkening sky.

When Dr. Page leans over her, she breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank god you're here."

"I know, right? You dumb heroes are always getting hurt. What would you do without me?" Her voice is deadpan. She pokes and prods under her helmet until she nods. "You're right. Looks like a fractured C4 and C5 vertebra. You're lucky you didn't crush it or paralyze yourself. Hold still. I'll get the worst of it out of the way." She places her cold hands on either side of Regina's neck. There’s a prickling sensation that radiates from her fingers before it seeps under her skin and into her bones. There are cracking sounds as they mend themselves. The pain recedes from her arms and shoulders.

"Alright kiddo," Dr. Page says, even though she's maybe seven years older than her, tops. "I've done all I can, but you're still gonna have to wear a dorky cervical collar for the next month."

"What about my father?"

"Alright, maybe two weeks then. But absolutely no training or patrols for the next month, just to make sure." She takes out her phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling your emergency contact. Unless you want to be loaded up in an ambulance? I can't get a cervical collar on without removing your helmet and I thought you might to do that in private."

"No. I mean, yes, that sounds like a good idea. Thank you, by the way." 

She nods. "Hello, there's been an injury. Yes. Yes. As soon as possible. The trainyard, the side facing seventh. Okay. Bye." Regina's grateful she omits any identifying details in the exchange. "She'll be here shortly."

Within seconds, Specter emerges from the shadow of a railcar. Mindful of prying eyes, she doesn't say anything before placing a hand on both of them. They sink into the shadow of a nearby building. It’s lucky that it’s sunset where everything’s thrown into sharp relief, Regina thinks.

Regina finds traveling with her mother through the shadows comforting, actually. It's one of her earliest memories: the cool, feathery touch of darkness before emerging through the other side into the light of familiar settings. They rise up from the ground into the base’s infirmary.

Dr. Page scowls. "I wish you would've told me you were going to do that. I left a bike at the trainyard."

"I'll get it later, especially for you," Cora snaps. "Now that we're away from prying ears, tell me everything."

Dr. Page shrugs and gives her the condensed version. Regina has to admire that. Not many people can remain calm while her mother's angry. 

"I see," her mother says finally. That politician mask is back in place. "Regina, I'm going to cut away your helmet. Try not to move."

Between her and Dr. Page, they manage to secure the collar. Regina sits up in an ungainly fashion, feeling very aware of her neck. Is this how giraffes feel? She brushes herself off.

"Remember: brace on for the next two weeks and no hero work for two weeks after that after your father's taken a look at you. Come in sometime this week and I’ll do a quick check-up just to make sure everything’s going according to plan."

"Okay.” She’s not happy about it but remembers her manners. “Thanks, Dr. Page."

She waves them off. Regina peers at her mother, who gives her a terse nod. They disappear into another shadow and rise up in the foyer at home.

"Henry!" Cora shouts. "Get down here! Your daughter's gotten herself hurt again!"

Her father bustles out of his office, his glasses perched on his nose, and hurries down the stairs. "Oh sweetheart, what have you done this time?"

Regina scuffs at the hardwood floors with the toe of her boot. "I broke my neck," she mutters.

He sighs. "Cora, she literally broke her neck. You can't ask her to keep injuring herself like this."

"Ask her?" Her mother's voice is sharp. "I'm not asking her to break her bones. She's supposed to know better. That's why she had those two years of mentorship. She's going to have to be faster and stronger if this isn't going to happen again. Is that clear, Regina?"

She wants to say that she'll try, but that won't be enough for Cora. There's doing and not doing. Trying doesn't count for anything. "Yes, Mother."

"Fix her," Cora barks. "I'm going back to work." She slips into her shadow and vanishes without a sound.

Her father sighs again and takes her hand. "Come along, querida." He tucks her into bed before taking her hand. Her father's healing powers are different from anybody else's she's experienced. It's a warm spark that jumps from his palm to hers before it fizzes up along her arm to whenever she's hurting. It circles to the back of her neck and sinks through her skin and muscles to her bones where it dissipates into a languid, soothing sensation that radiates out from the site. He pats her hand once and gets up. "I'll be back with some soup."

But by the time he returns, she’s already fallen asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire chapter is just Regina being uncomfortable and a lot of mentions of teeth. I'm sorry.

The next two weeks are utterly terrible. She tries to laugh off her conspicuous accessory by saying something about being thrown by a horse when her classmates stare at her, but they continue to sneak glances at her. After all, who goes horseback riding in December? The gawking and residual pain build until she berates a pushy concerned citizen and the senator lectures her. Everything is inconvenient. She can't shower or type or reach for things with any sort of ease. She has nothing to do but try to get comfortable enough to nap after she gets through her tasks for the day. Her father lends her a thriller but she loses interest after her arms get tired from holding the book up at an angle where she can actually read.

When she complains about it when she returns it, he offers to read it aloud to her. And maybe she's too old to enjoy such a simple pleasure, but she likes being coddled, especially when she's grumpy and injured. Her mother checks in on her periodically, but mostly to comment about something that happened at headquarters rather than ask about her well-being.

Even with the cervical collar off, she’s listless. She devours a large chunk of her father’s books, finding she has a certain fondness for his pulpy thrillers that all seem to involve espionage and explosions. She can read much faster on her own, but still prefers when he takes the time to read out loud to her.

Despite that, she lets out an audible sigh of relief when Dr. Page pronounces she's fit for duty again. Of course, she can't quite jump right in again because the end of the semester is upon her. Her hours with the Sentinels are always reduced during finals week. Zelena laughs at her one day as she's hurrying out of base, wrestling with her scarf.

"Ha. I don't miss my undergrad days at all."

Regina glares at her. "Ready to present that dissertation, are you?"

The elevator doors close behind her before she can savor Zelena's reaction. 

...

Now that she's back on schedule, the days fly past. She wraps up the last of her exams and papers and projects right before she ducks into the training room to get back in shape under Ingrid's guidance. Gold's involvement has been drastically reduced for the last few months. It's a hotly debated topic between the more senior heroes. Cora's convinced that he's about to retire and pass on leadership to her. Malcolm argues that he should be the next leader since he’s been on the team for longer than anyone else. Everyone ignores Arthur when he brings up his record against various minor villains. Ingrid mostly stays out of it, which is why she'd been willing to help get Regina back in shape. Who knew that a few weeks without any activity would undo so much of her progress?

"Again," Ingrid says, barely out of breath as she touches down on the mats.

Regina groans and swipes the back of her hand across her flushed face, but readies herself as Ingrid draws a blunted cutlass. They're simulating a fight where she can't use her power and her opponent is armed. Regina herself doesn't carry anything besides her standard issue taser and pepper spray and even then she’s loath to use them. She finds weapons too unwieldy. And there's something empowering about knowing that you've brought down an enemy using nothing but yourself. But some others do. Assurance has her gun and Killian uses his steel sickle like an extension of his arm (more for show than anything because they’re not allowed to kill and he likes to keep it at a finely honed edge, but still).

Ingrid strikes out, using her power to give her a burst of speed. Regina brings up her forearm guard out of habit but Ingrid swats it out of the way. "You'll lose your arm that way. And Dr. Page might be good, but she can't grow a new limb for you. Try again."

She lunges in a stab this time and Regina scuttles backwards to avoid being skewered. Even if the blade is dulled, it'll still bruise like a bitch at best and break some ribs at worst and she just got done being benched. Ingrid pushes forward, swinging the cutlass around in a whirl of complicated patterns. Sometimes she's right in front of Regina, other times she's above her, occasionally she'll pop up behind her. It's all she can do to not get hit since she can't fight back as is.

She tries to think as she retreats. She kicks out, aiming for Ingrid's wrist, but Ingrid is fast and pulls her arm out of the way before she reverses the blade, bringing it down on her thigh. Regina barely manages to fall back in time. Ingrid slashes for her head and she sees her opening. Regina bobs, letting the sword pass clean over her, before she sweeps in close. Ingrid's over rotated and tries to cut across the arc of her swing to cut into her, but it's too late. Regina delivers a brutal left hook that makes Ingrid's neck click audibly. Fortunately, she uses her power to throw herself to the side to lessen the blow.

She still staggers away, massaging her jaw. "Dear god, Regina. That was a nice hit, but I think we're done for today."

Regina hurries over. "Are you alright? How are your teeth?"

"You hit my jawbone. It’s fine. A hairline fracture at the very worst. Don't worry, Dr. Page will patch me up without a problem. Are you done for today?"

"No, I've still got a patrol."

Ingrid nods. "You do that. We'll work on brass knuckles tomorrow."

As Regina is about to leave the room, she's takes one last look behind her. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Ingrid smiles. Her teeth are all present and accounted for. "It's an occupational hazard. Besides, I've been through worse. Go."

It's a good thing there's no incidents that night. Regina feels sluggish and heavy with guilt. She doesn’t understand why. This is her job: to try to beat her teammates and get better herself. She can take it when she loses, just another reason to keep pushing herself, but when she wins, it never lives up to what she makes it out to be in her head. It’s never enough. So she keeps chasing the high that she thinks she’s supposed to feel. It never feels right. She doesn’t know what’s wrong with her.

...

Christmas is bearing down on them. Christmas Day is a lot like Thanksgiving. Just a day spent at home while everyone does their own thing and then a quiet shared dinner. Presents are exchanged without ceremony afterwards. She gives her mother a pair of shearling-lined gloves and her father a set of noise-canceling headphones for when he’s concentrating on his work as a stockbroker. Her mother’s gotten her another LSAT practice book. Her father gives her a small pendant that Cora sneers at. “She’ll never be able to wear it with all the throwing around in the field she does.” Regina resolves to wear it everywhere anyway.

The day after is dedicated to deep cleaning the house from top to bottom. After Regina gets back from training with an absent-minded Gold and a patrol, she's ordered to polish the silver in preparation for the party tomorrow. Well, Cora wouldn't call it a party. It's the Mills’ Annual Christmas Celebration, in which she invites extended family and connections from work to gauge how well they're doing in comparison to the competition. Regina despises being put on the spot and repeating the carefully crafted version of the truth that her mother makes her parrot to everyone.

She has no way of escaping Saturday's festivities either. Cora has arranged it so both she and Regina are off for the entirety of the day. The three of them make the most of it in the kitchen, making everything for tonight from scratch. Cora won't have anyone say that she's so busy she can't make a proper Christmas dinner herself even though they literally had a store-bought roast chicken for their own Christmas dinner. Imagine the scandal if there were rumors she had it all catered. Regina continues to violently mash the potatoes.

The party is just as uncomfortable as it is every year. She goes where her mother pushes her and says all the right things and bares her teeth in a semblance of a smile when Cora pinches her. People ask her the same old questions about college and her internship and her future. At one point, she hears her mother scoff dismissively when one of her uncles tells her about how her cousin is taking a year off to backpack across Asia. Regina feels a twinge of something like envy, but doesn't linger on it. She's on a timeline, that's all. She's got important things to accomplish within a set number of years. Once she makes it, she can do whatever she wants.

Needless to say, none of this does anything to alleviate the gnarled knot of general dissatisfaction and unease that’s been growing like a tumor under her sternum.

...

Everything in her life recently has taken on a scripted and transitional feel to it. Her mother will tell her that it takes years of work before the payoff, which she knows but she’s tired of waiting for her life to start. Everyday is the same. Wake up, patrol, training, internship, class, Model UN, go to bed. The only thing that changes is the order. Which is why she’s feeling brash and desperate enough to agree when another one of Eos’ taskrabbits hands her another note. Anything to escape the constant banality of her life right now.

Still, she can’t quite her instincts that this is a trap just waiting to happen.

Today Eos has requested they meet at a little known park that overlooks the city. Does she have something for heights?

“Hey,” Eos says, giving her a little wave from the bench.

Regina can barely make her out. The frozen branches of a willow droop over the bench and her black jumpsuit certainly doesn’t help. She tamps down the voice that sounds suspiciously like her mother that warns her that she’s being reckless and it’s going to get her killed.

She sits primly at the very end of the bench, as far from Eos as she can get.

“I don’t bite, you know,” Eos says. Her teeth glint in the soft lights of the city below them.

“You’re lucky I even showed up after what you pulled last time.”

“Okay, well I wouldn’t have had to do that in the first place if you’d just drop the whole ‘I need to arrest you’ thing.”

“That’s kind of my whole job: find people who break the law and take them in. I can’t make exceptions, even for you.”

“Oh? Do I hold a special place in your heart?” Her voice is light, teasing.

“You could say that, as my sworn enemy.”

“I think that’s a little much, considering that you sneak away to meet me in secret.”

“This is only the second time. I won’t make it a habit.”

Eos tilts her head. “Why not? I’m great company.”

Regina huffs a laugh. “Sure, until you decide to blind me yet again.”

“And we’re back to square one. I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree for now.”

“I guess so.”

Something in her voice must tip her off because Eos frowns and says, “Are you okay? You seem a little off.”

Regina sighs. There are so many things she wants to say but she doesn’t know if she can convey what’s bothering her without giving away her identity. “Do you...ever think that you’re stuck in a rut?”

To her surprise, Eos laughs. “Dude, that’s like my entire life.”

“What do you mean?” Eos doesn’t seem like the type to have an aggressive mother pushing her toward a one-track path to success.

She hums and slouches on the bench. “How much time do you have? I don’t want to bore you with my whole life story if you’ve got somewhere to be.”

Regina checks her watch. “I’ve got an hour or two.”

“First off, I want you to know I’m not looking for pity. It’s not pretty, but it’s all I’ve known and I like to think I’ve made it out alright. So none of the usual ‘I’m so sorry’ and ‘that must’ve been so hard’ shit I usually have to hear, okay?”

“Okay.” Regina has to admit, her curiosity’s piqued and if privately, she thinks it can’t be much worse than her mother’s “I’ve suffered to give you the world” spiel.

Eos takes a deep breath before she says, “So I’ve never known my parents. The authorities found me on the side of the road as a newborn and after that I bounced around foster care. Some of them were better than others, but I never stayed in one place for too long. I was a problem child.” She says this with a hint of fondness. “An absolute nightmare to deal with. By the time I was ten, I figured I was gonna get sent back whether I was on my best behavior or not so I would steal and lie and skip school all the time. Then I aged out of the system. On my own, I wasn’t much better off. I ended up in prison on a pretty light charge, but still. It made me realize that I don’t wanna go back anytime soon. When I got out, things were rough. I’ve been trying to make it on my own since then, but it’s not easy making a living with a prison GED at the bottom of the food chain. So I tried and tried until I couldn’t anymore, and then I met you.”

“Oh.” There’s something in Eos’ voice that reminds Regina of the way her mother talks in front of company. They both have that breezy, casual of wording their sentences. The difference is that Cora uses it to impress and Regina suspects that Eos uses it to paint her past in broad, general brushstrokes and tone down how terrible her life has actually been. “I certainly wasn’t expecting that.”

“Alright, let me have it. Are you dying to shower me with your sympathy?”

“No,” Regina says, somewhat defensively. “I was going to say that your crimes make more sense now.”

“See? I knew you’d see it my way.”

“However, that doesn’t excuse them completely. If you were to explain your circumstances to the judge, I think they’d give you a reduced sentence. Maybe only community service, even.”

Eos chuckles. “Are you ever gonna let that go?”

“It’s not something that can just be ignored. I know you’re a prison-toughened broad or whatever now, but there has to be some sort of penance for the damage you’ve done.”

Eos laughs. It’s a full-bodied belly laugh. Regina is startled, but not necessarily in a bad way. It breaks the cold stillness of the night. “Prison-toughed broad? That’s good. I’ll have to put that on my resume.”

“So? Do you think you’ll ever compensate for the havoc you caused?”

She smirks. “Havoc I caused? God, you’re making it sound much more impressive than a few hundred dollars, some sandwiches, and mashed potatoes.” But then she closes her eyes and sighs. “I know. Think about it, though. Judges review dozens of cases a day. If they saw mine, they’d see a previous prison sentence and put me away again. Maybe I could’ve done that again a few years ago, but I’m not in a position where I can do that now.”

“Why? What’s different now?”

Eos stiffens. Regina can see the tension in the tendons of her neck before she swallows and it bleeds away. “I have...someone counting on me. I can’t leave him.”

Ailing father? Brother? Boyfriend? Husband? Regina is curious but realizes that this isn’t something Eos wants to talk about.

“Not to mention my employers would be very upset about losing me to the law,” Eos continues after a beat.

Regina nods. “Yeah, the Whites are very protective of their employees.”

At this, Eos sits up, her back ramrod straight. She stares at her, dumbfounded. “What? How did you know?”

She shrugs. “It wasn’t exactly rocket science. You said you got a new job and the only people who could afford a high-tech photosensitive leather jumpsuit would be superpowered criminals and seeing as the Damsels never recruit, the only option was the Whites.”

“I was so careful too,” Eos murmurs to herself.

Regina snorts. “Hardly. The Whites are known for many things, but subtlety isn’t one of them. I imagine they instruct their employees in the same manner. I’m guessing they hired you to fend off Specter?”

She purses her lips and nods slowly. “Are you going to tell her?”

“That the Whites snapped you up to fight her off? No. I’m sure she knows, or at last suspects your involvement. Besides, what would that accomplish? M-Specter knows full well what she’s going up against. Not to mention the bad blood between them is exceedingly personal. I’m not even sure what it entails, honestly. No, she wants to bring about their downfall by herself.”

“She sounds like quite the character.”

“She is.”

“Reminds me of you, only much more of a hardass.”

Regina chokes a bit. She can’t tell if she’s being serious or making fun of her. “I’m flattered. But I only wish I could be like her.”

Eos twists her mouth. “I don’t think that’s something to aspire to, but if you say so.”

Regina feels the instinctive need to defend her mother fill her throat like bile but swallows it down. No need to alert Eos to the fact that she has a special connection to Specter.

They watch the city in contemplative silence for a bit before Regina clears her throat and says, “So what’s it like working for said superpowered criminal family empire?”

Eos lifts an eyebrow. “Pumping me for information?”

Regina shrugs a shoulder. “Just interested. It’s not like I’ve ever met them. Specter’s made it very clear that she’s the only one to take calls pertaining to the Whites.”

Eos lets out a breath. “I’m not sure what to say. So far, they’re paying me well to do a whole lot of nothing, which don’t get me wrong, is like my dream job but I’m getting antsy. Everyday is the same. Nothing changes. I’m just waiting for something to happen.”

Regina freezes. The echo of her own thoughts strikes a chord in her. “So...what are you going to do about it?”

“Tough it out, I guess. They’re good people, honestly. Don’t give me that look.” Regina has scrunched up her face. “They look out for their employees and do things by the book. Okay, well as by the book as you can be when you deal mainly in illegal activities. But it seems like they really care about us and what we need and that’s rare in any company. I still can’t believe I have health insurance for the first time in years. Like they didn’t have to do that. They could’ve made it so we were completely off the radar and cheated us because what are we going to do, go to the police? But they didn’t. I don’t know. I don’t think they’re as bad as you’re making them out to be. Something to think about, that’s all.”

“Huh. You are full of surprises.”

“Absolutely.” She nods. “Wait, what did I do this time?”

“It’s just not what I was expecting. Again. I’m glad that things in your life are better than they were before. But,” she deliberates on her word choice, “what would you do if the situation turn out so sunny?”

“Then I’d move on.”

Regina raises her eyebrows. “Just like that?”

“Just like that. I mean, it wouldn’t be immediate. Not anymore. Before I would literally up and leave the next day but due to...my responsibilities now It would take some time to save up and make sure everything was in order before I went looking for whatever I could do next to get by.”

Regina contemplates this in silence. It’s not an option for her, obviously, but the idea is tempting. Her watch beeps. “I need to go.” In her distraction, she lets slip, “It’s my curfew.”

She stops, her eyes widening in horror as Eos frowns and tilts her head. “How old are you?”

“Old enough not to have a curfew.”

Eos frowns for a second longer before she says, “Okay, well, it was nice talking to you again. Good night, Umbra.”

“Good night. Thanks for not blinding me this time around.”

Eos grins. “There’s always next time.”

“Don’t bet on it.”

It isn’t until she’s on the cusp of falling asleep that night that Regina realizes that the tangle of anxiety and frustration has eased a bit. She feels like she can breathe again. But she drifts off before she can properly analyze the reason why.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we deserved more ruby dammit

The Sentinels’ end of year review is today. Well actually, it’s supposed to be scheduled for the end of the year and they’re well into February now, but Gold hasn’t been as present as he usually is and it took Ingrid asking when they were going to have it for Gold to remember. Usually, they set up times with him beforehand, but with the delay, he’s decided to squeeze them all into one evening. So now they’re all milling around base waiting to be called into Gold’s office, like children awaiting judgment from the school principal.

Regina, in particular, is very disgruntled. She’s supposed to be studying for her American Political Parties class right now. She’ll have to stay up late just to make up the time.

Killian does not lighten her mood when he saunters over to where she’s trying her best to focus on her reading and raps his knuckles on the desk. 

“Can I help you?” she asks without looking up.

“Yes. There’s a charity ball at the opera tonight. I’ve been so dreadfully busy lately I’d totally forgotten to arrange for a date.”

She turns a page. “How unfortunate.”

“I do agree. Can you imagine a face like this going dateless to one of the season’s most exclusive events? I don’t think so.”

She grunts with disinterest. It’s true that Killian is very, very pretty. It’s unnatural actually. That’s his power: enhanced beauty. It doesn’t sound all that impressive, especially on a superhero team, but you’d be surprised. Everyone meeting him for the first time is startled by his attractiveness and he’s incapacitated more than one villain simply by taking advantage of their dazedness, but most of the time, the effect fades, especially when you start to get to know him. It’s clear that he’s skated by most his life on his looks alone.

He leans over her. “So how would you like the honor of accompanying me tonight?”

“I’m busy.”

“Excuse me?”

Regina doesn’t bother answering.

“I’m not sure I heard you correctly. Are you, a mere sparrow in regards to my swan-like refinement, turning me down?”

She finally looks up and stares him straight in the eye to ensure he doesn’t mistake her objection for something like modesty and says, “Yes. I am.”

Before he can reply with what is undoubtedly an incredulous rant, the door to Gold’s office swings open. Everyone looks up.

“Jones, Mills, West!” Gold calls. Both Cora and Regina stand up, then look at each other.

“Which one?” Cora asks.

“Junior.”

Meanwhile, Regina, Zelena, and Killian exchange looks. Regina sees her expression of surprise mirrored on both the others’ faces. Usually Gold will call them in one by one. That’s the purpose of the end of year reviews: to hear what you did well and what you need to work on, in private.

“Hurry up, all of you. I haven’t got all day!” Gold snaps, turning his back on them to limp back to his desk.

They glance at each other once more before they scurry into the office. Regina brings up the rear and closes the door with a gentle click behind them before taking the last of the three seats in front of Gold’s polished mahogany desk.

Gold lowers himself heavily into his office chair with a grunt, propping up his cane against the bookshelf behind him. Regina is pretty sure he’s either faking or playing up his injury. He claims that he was shot in the foot in the Gulf War, but it seems like a terribly convenient place to be shot, not to mention that his limp virtually disappears when he’s in a fight. 

He opens one of the drawers in his desk and rifles through files until he pulls three manila folders. He picks one at random and flicks through the papers. He leans back and rests an ankle on the opposite knee. “Ms. Mills.”

“Yes sir.”

She can see Zelena’s lip curl in her peripheral vision in response to her deference.

“Your work as a junior hero was nearly flawless, barring various injuries, mostly minor. The only thing marring it was those run-ins with that hellion Eos.” He pauses. “Have you seen her since the fire?”

Regina tries hard to maintain eye contact. “No.”

“Well, just because she helped you once doesn’t mean that you can expect more of the same from her. I trust you have a strategy in case she shows up again?”

She’s got her pepper spray but that’s basically it. Still, she doesn’t think she’s in danger from Eos anymore. Eos has had multiple opportunities to attack her and hasn’t, minus the first two times they met. “Yes...yes, sir.”

“I’m not as impressed by what you’ve done on your own so far.” He tuts. “A few weeks in and you managed to sideline yourself for an entire month? I’m expecting quite the turnaround this year.”

She nods.

“Ms. West.”

Regina blinks in confusion. That’s it? Usually Gold takes at least fifteen minutes per person. But Zelena snaps to, leaning forward with rapt attention.

“Not bad for your first few months on your own,” he says, running his finger down her record. “Sixty-two total calls, sixty arrests in all, three minor injuries, one major on the job.” He turns the page. “As a junior hero, you’ve proven yourself capable of following instructions but also picking up the slack when needed.”

Zelena beams.

“In training—” he starts, but he’s interrupted by his phone vibrating.

It’s happened before. He’s a busy man. But usually he takes it out just long enough to glance at caller id and then silence it. This time, his demeanor changes when he sees who it is. His face goes from bored to positively beaming. He lets out a sound that Regina can only describe as a giggle before he taps something out and sends it, tucking the phone back into his pocket.

“Excuse me. Where was I?”

“In training,” Zelena supplies, but her face is stony now.

“Yes, in training, Cora mentioned to me that have excellent instincts although she’d like to see you move faster. You shouldn’t need to rely on your power to everytime you’re in a tight spot. Understood?”

She nods sullenly.

“As for you, Mr. Jones.” His good mood drops like a bowling ball.

Killian slouches in his seat, his arms folded. “What about me?”

“It’s been nearly two years and I still can’t tell if you’re taking your position seriously. Showing up late, drunk more often than not, skipping out on training, nearly getting yourself killed in eight different situations I can name off the top of my head. I know you and Arthur are quite chummy but even he, as your mentor, has expressed hesitance, about letting you join the senior ranks. Do you think this is a game? We have a responsibility to the people of this city and if you’re not going to do your part, you can leave. Go back to your rich party playboy lifestyle. We don’t have room for dead-weight on the team.”

Killian scowls at the desk but doesn’t move.

“I’ve had this conversation with you multiple times now and it never seems to sink in,” Gold continues. “Your two year trial is almost up. This is your last chance. Start putting in the work or you’re off the team for good. You are nearly thirty years old. It’s time to start acting like it.”

Killian sighs through his nose, his expression stormy.

“You’re all dismissed. Call in Fisher and Briton.”

Even though everything Gold said was true, Regina can’t help but feel a little bad for Killian. It’s never fun getting chewed out, by Gold in particular. 

When Ingrid and Arthur have closed the office door behind them, Zelena’s silent fuming reaches its boiling point. “He’s seeing someone,” she hisses.

“What?”

“You saw him. Whoever he was texting, that’s why he hasn’t been around as much. He’s distracted by some bimbo.”

Regina has to stifle a laugh. “Literally no one uses that word anymore.”

“Fine,” she snaps. “Some ho has ensnared him. Don’t deny it.”

“I think it’s harsh to call someone you’ve never even met a ho, but I guess I agree he’s been preoccupied. But come on, Zelena. There could any number of reasons for it. What if it was a work meme or something?”

“Gold doesn’t get memes. It’s a woman,” she insists. “I know it. Mark my words, she’s running a long con.”

“Or maybe he just met someone and they’re hitting it off. Doesn’t mean there’s anything nefarious going on. People are allowed to have lives outside the team.”

Killian folds his hands behind his head. “Whatever the cause is, I’ll take it, especially if he keeps doing things in this casual way. That was much more bearable than the half-hour reprimand I usually get.” He turns to Zelena. “There’s a ball tonight and I need a date. You’re my first choice, West. What do you say?”

Regina’s sympathy for him evaporates. She’s got a hint of a smirk starting at one corner at her mouth as she waits for Zelena’s reply. Her words usually completely eviscerate him. But then Zelena pauses and says, “Yeah, okay. Why not?”

Regina scoffs as she packs up her things. “Please. Have some standards.”

“Hey!” Killian says.

“Not all of us can have Mommy and Daddy bankrolling our lives,” Zelena says to Regina in a low, cold voice.

Okay, Regina has to give her that. “So you’re doing it for the money?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Zelena says. “That’s only the beginning.” She addresses Killian. “There will be other eligible bachelors there, yes?”

“I suppose,” Killian says, his brow furrowing. “But why would that matter if you’re attending with the most eligible of them all?” 

Gold wasn’t kidding about the rich party playboy lifestyle Killian leads. After his parents died five years ago in a private plane crash, he’s inherited the family business manufacturing computer chips and the millions that go with it. Since then, it’s been a whirlwind of tabloid gossip about money and girls and weekend getaways in Singapore. It’s a wonder he’s managed to keep Paragon, his superhero identity, a secret.

“It’s quite simple,” Zelena says with a wicked grin, reaching up to straighten the lapels of the leather coat he wears, the one that exposes a good portion of his chest hair, which Regina doesn’t find appealing at all but that he swears attracts the ladies. He smirks back at her, clearly enjoying her attention. “Nothing against you, dear, but I prefer my men a little more...experienced.” She pats his chest and starts to walk away. “Pick me up at seven. I’ll text you the address.”

“Wear red,” Killian tells her. “So your dress will match my tie.”

Zelena doesn’t stop. “I don’t think so,” she calls back at him. “Green’s more my color. Find another tie.”

Regina glances at Killian’s outraged expression and shakes her head in bemusement. Why is everyone being so weird today?

...

The next day Regina responds to a call about multiple murders. When she gets to the scene, she comes face-to-face with Maneater, another Damsel of Distress, sitting on a stoop of an apartment complex with a pale woman, shivering in the cold with messily ripped fishnets.

Maneater looks up when Regina kills the motorcycle’s engine and passes the other woman something small and rectangular before patting her on the shoulder. The woman takes one look between Regina and Maneater and takes off.

Regina takes care not to step in the blood seeping into the dirty slush and grass-choked asphalt from the three dead men lying in front of the stoop as she dismounts. “Maneater. Are you responsible for this?”

She leans back on the steps and shrugs. “You got me. Guilty as charged.”

“I don’t suppose you’re going to come with me quietly?”

She stands and buttons her spotless scarlet blazer. Her long hair whips across her snarling wolf mask as the arctic wind howls across the parking lot. The dull sun glints off the gold chains draped on the dead men’s pasty necks and the multiple rings adorning their fingers. Maneater unsheathes two daggers from her thigh holsters. “No,” she says nonchalantly. “I don’t think I will.”

Regina sighs. “For once, I wish it could be easy with you Damsels.”

“Come on, Umbra. There’s no fun in that.” She grins. Her teeth are very white against her blood-red lips.

Regina bares her teeth right back at her. “Let’s get this over with.”

Maneater springs forward even before Regina finishes her sentence. Regina is expecting it though, and dives to the side as Maneater’s knives slice through the air. They barely miss her. She’s forgotten how long Maneater’s arms are. As Regina is regaining her center of gravity, Maneater barely slides to a stop, the snow and gravel grinding under her boots, before she’s switching direction to come after her again. Regina has to be especially careful around Maneater. Regina might be fast for her size, but heightened reflexes are Maneater’s specialty.

As many times as she’s done this song and dance before, she still struggles to remember what Gold and her mother have told her about fighting a faster opponent. Keep her distance, hit with everything she has, don’t hesitate when she sees an opening.

Unfortunately, Maneater just gets close enough to slash at her before she dances out of range again. All of Regina’s strikes miss.

“Fuck it,” she snaps and pulls out both her pepper spray and taser. “I got four hours of sleep last night. I don’t have the patience for this.”

“Oh dear,” Maneater says, twirling a knife around her long fingers and eyeing the taser as it crackles to life. “Looks like I’ve upset you.”

She throws one of her daggers at Regina just as she unleashes her darkness. Regina brings up a forearm and the blade sings as it bounces off her vambrace. Maneater is crouching in her sightlessness, turning her head this way and that to parse out Regina’s location. Regina angles to the left and fires the taser. Even blind, Maneater is fast enough to launch herself out of harm’s way. Regina scowls and tosses it aside. It’ll make too much noise recharging anyway.

“You’re cheating a bit, aren’t you?” Maneater calls out. “How is this a fair fight if I can’t see?”

Regina doesn’t answer. She tiptoes within range and then scrapes her boot against the ground. Right when Maneater whips around, Regina sprays her right in the face. As Maneater collapses, screaming and clawing at her face, Regina steps over her and wrestles her arms behind her back.

“The fair part is seeing you go to prison for murdering three men in cold blood,” Regina says when Maneater’s stopped yelling. She only snarls when Regina sits on her back.

“God, do you have a handbook of comebacks or something? They’re all terrible,” she says, her words muffled with her face pressed against wet weeds and cold asphalt. “And let’s be real here. Cold blood? They deserved it.”

Regina sighs and makes herself comfortable, ignoring Maneater’s grunts of discomfort. “You Damsels all think you can reinforce the law yourselves but it’s dangerous to put the law in the hands of a few vigilantes. It’s too easy to be led astray. What did these guys do? Deal drugs? Vandalism?“ She gasps in mock horror. “Smuggle illegal fireworks?”

Maneater scoffs. “Please. Do you think we dole out murder arbitrarily?”

Regina frowns. “Yeah, actually. Do you not?”

“No. Trust me, these guys had it coming. They were running a prostitution ring, taking advantage of vulnerable women, getting them hooked on crack so they couldn’t leave, and regularly beating them on top of that.” She spits. “No one should pick a fight against someone who can’t fight back. Scum deserved to die.”

Regina’s put in the uncomfortable position of agreeing with her. Of course Maneater could be making up a sob story just to make herself look better, but there’s something about her rage that rings true. Regina covers up her indecision by alerting the police that she has Maneater subdued and ready for pickup. Regina keeps an eye out for any of the other Damsels, just in case. She has no wish to end up with another broken neck.

“Just me today,” Maneater says, rather cheerfully for someone with her eyes swollen shut and tears still streaming down her face, what little Regina can see between the gaps of her mask.

“Why’s that? No one wanted to help you kill pimps?”

“Nah, they’re all busy. Not for lack of bloodlust, though. Assurance, Erinys, and Silicium were all for it.” She shrugs, or tries to. “But they all had to work. Which is a bummer. Murder’s such a good bonding activity.”

When the police push her into the back of the squad car, she calls out, “See you around, Umbra!”

Regina doesn’t bother with a farewell as she swings a leg over her motorcycle. She knows Maneater will be back out on the streets sooner rather than later.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm so sorry about the delay. I got stuck on this story and then somehow ended up writing a 19k fic for a different fandom? (I make bad life choices.) But I think maybe I've gotten some of my momentum back. We'll see.
> 
> Thanks to J for some much-needed inspiration and a kick in the ass.

It’s the middle of evening rush hour when Emma and Henry emerge from the underground metro station. He swings their joined hands as they walk the few blocks to the White’s shipping warehouse.

“What are you guys doing today, kiddo?”

He shrugs. “Dunno.”

She grins because for all of his three years, it’s remarkable sometimes how he much he resembles her in her teenage years.

“Are you gonna play with Reese and Olivia?”

He shrugs again. “Maybe I draw by myself.”

Emma frowns. She has tried her hardest these past few years but sometimes she lays awake at night worrying that it’s not enough, that it’ll never be enough. Since she’s used to working nights and couldn’t afford daycare before now, she spent a lot of the day snoozing or cooking and cleaning while Henry sat in front of the TV (educational cartoons, but still.) She tries to read to him before bedtime every night but it still doesn’t seem like enough. Her gut wrenches with guilt even now. What if she’s stunted his development? Is it normal for him to be uninterested in playing with kids his age? What if he needs some sort of help and she has no idea? She’ll talk to his teachers before her shift and see if everything’s okay.

She wonders if Henry would’ve been better off if she’d given him up for adoption. That was the original plan, but then the nurse had put him in her arms after seventeen hours of labor and she couldn’t bear to part with him, even if it would make her life twenty times harder. Personally she thinks she’d rather have a difficult life with parents who loved her even if they couldn’t quite make ends meet rather than tumbling through the foster system, but maybe Henry would’ve gotten lucky and ended up with a loving family in a nice house that never had to worry about money.

She shakes herself to dispel the thoughts. There’s no use in thinking about that. The past is the past. There might be someone out there whose power is to change the past, but it sure as hell isn’t her.

“Oh yes,” Ms. Haugen tells her. “It’s perfectly normal for Henry to want to be on his own. He’s very shy and I think sometimes he gets overwhelmed by everything that's going on.”

“But the other kids aren’t like that?”

“It varies. We’ve got quite a mix here. Some are boisterous and some are quieter and prefer to watch rather than participate. But it’s all normal. Kids grow at different rates. You don’t have anything to worry about.” She gives Emma a kind smile. “You’re doing your best with him. It shows.”

Emma’s throat tightens for no discernible reason. “Thank you.”

It’s a quiet shift. It’s always a quiet shift. For all of Snow’s warnings about Specter, Emma hasn’t seen any sign of her. As the months have gone on, Emma has relaxed. She’s stopped jumping and flashing at every stray shadow. She rubs her eye with a fist as she paces outside the warehouse doors.

“The Boss is here!” one of the workers announces.

Emma straightens up. A town car pulls in front of the warehouse. A shadowy figure leaps out of the car and pulls open the door, helping three other people out. As the group approaches, Emma recognizes Snow and David (or James, Emma still can’t tell them apart.)

“Hey, Boss,” the forewoman says. “What brings you here?”

She’s not looking at Snow, but at the stately man and his companion.

“Just thought we’d stop by and see how things are going. Any problems?”

After the forewoman briefs them on some late shipments and that they need to get a new part for the crane, the man nods and tells her that he’ll move the timeline around for the shipments and order the part for tomorrow.

“Emma!” Snow trots over and pulls her into a hug.

“Oh,” Emma says, stiffening instinctively before she consciously pats her on the back three times. She’s not much of a hugger, even with close friends (not that she’s had very much experience with having those.)

“How’s everything?”

“Good. Quiet. Any news on Specter?”

Snow frowns. “No. None, which makes it all the odder. Usually we see her at least once in a few months but this is unusual. No doubt she’s getting ready for an all-out assault.”

“Really?” Emma looks around nervously. “Are you sure the ole razzle-dazzle is gonna be enough to scare her off?”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. There’s no way she’ll be able to counter your power,” Snow says brightly.

Emma furrows her brow. “If you say so.”

The man and woman come to stand behind Snow, David/James skulking off to the side. “Oh, how silly of me. Emma, this is my mom and dad, Eva and Leopold White. Mom and Dad, you know about Emma, of course.”

“Of course,” Leopold says, enfolding her into a bone-crushing bear hug. _Their family must really be into hugs_ , Emma thinks before her thoughts become all hazy. Suddenly all she can think of is how she wants him to be proud of her. Eva gives her two air kisses. “We’re very grateful to have your service.”

“It’s my honor to serve!” Emma says, her eyes pricking with tears.

Snow scowls. “Dad, stop that.”

“What? Oh. I’m sorry.”

The adoration fades. Her thoughts sharpen. She realizes all at once that she’s still clutching at Leopold. She scrambles backwards and brushes herself off. “Uh, sorry about that. I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s not your fault,” Eva says, patting her shoulder. “Sometimes Leo doesn’t realize he’s doing it until someone points it out to him.”

“Doing what?”

“Leo can affect people’s emotions so they’re devoted to him.”

He nods. "I just want to be loved by everyone."

“Oh.” That’s a dangerous power. She tries to surreptitiously glance around. Is that why they have such a loyal workforce? Is he using his power now, but at a level she can’t feel it?

Eva notices because she laughs. “Don’t worry. He’s not doing it right now. It’s very obvious. And we have good employees because they have the freedom to unionize and we don’t pay them dirt.”

Emma eyes her warily. “Are you a mind-reader?”

Eva laughs harder. “Goodness, no. I deal in persuasion. It’s a very useful gift, but not quite as much as telepathy would be.”

Emma tries to stand her ground instead of backing up like she wants to. Adoration and persuasiveness are very threatening, even if they’re not traditional combat powers like what she has. Combined with Snow’s ability to ferret out secrets, it’s no wonder they’re criminal royalty.

They continue to stand there and beam at her like they’re not responsible for nearly all the organized crime in the city. Emma tries to think of something to say. She settles on, “Uh, if Specter shows up, I’ll deal with her,” in a tone more confident than she feels.

“Excellent, excellent,” Leopold says, shaking her hand with enthusiasm. “That’s what we like to hear. Keep up the hard work.”

Emma blinks. Hard work? She hasn’t done anything but stand here for the last few months. But she doesn’t say anything. This is definitely one of the better jobs she’s had and she doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. Instead she smiles and nods.

They take a cursory look around the warehouse, prodding at a few pallets, before they get back into the town car.

Emma spends the rest of her shift thinking of things she could’ve said instead of standing there awkwardly.

It’s nearly one in the morning when she carries Henry home. She’s tired and a little cranky but this is her favorite part of the day, just walking home on the dark, still streets, Henry asleep and occasionally snuffling against her shoulder. In a few years, he’ll be too big to carry but she has now to memorize how his downy hair feels against her cheek, how he smells clean and boyish, his steady weight in her arms.

And this? These moments she wouldn’t trade motherhood for anything.

…

Regina runs into Zelena while they’re both waiting for the elevator down to base.

There’s a few minutes of silence before Regina bites the bullet and asks as casually as she can, “So how was your date with Killian?”

Truthfully, curiosity’s been eating at her. Events like that are a dime a dozen but she still can’t fathom why Zelena of all people would say yes to Killian.

“Fine.”

It’s obvious she doesn’t want to talk about it. But Regina can’t help but wheedling a little more.

“Okay, but did you find the eligible bachelor of your dreams?”

“No.”

“Why not? Were they all crusty, old men? Wait, is that your type?”

Zelena whirls on her. “It’s none of your business, you twerp. If you wanted to know so bad you should’ve gone when Killian asked you.”

Regina scoffs. “I’m just trying to figuring out why you would say yes. You always have the meanest things to say to him when he usually asks. I was wondering why you changed your mind this time.”

Zelena stares straight ahead. “You’re too young to understand.”

“You’re only like five years older than I am!”

She lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Listen, things go fast when you’re in your twenties. One minute you’re flailing through life, trying to figure out how to consolidate loans on your own and the next, you’re rapidly approaching your thirties, when you should have everything figured out and settled down and yet, nothing’s changed. You’re still in the same shitty apartment, getting paid a pittance for your research, and all the time you put into trying to get somewhere seems like it’s been for nothing.” She looks over at her. “You know what that feels like?”

Regina squints. “Kinda?”

Zelena barks a laugh. “No you don’t. You’ve never had to struggle and fight for anything in your life. Everything you have, you’ve been given. Your parents take care of all your meals and laundry and pay 100% of your tuition and all you have to do is show up to class.”

“Wait a second, that’s not—”

But Zelena raises her voice. “God, even with this.” She waves a hand around at the deserted parking garage. She knows better to say it out loud in public where someone might overhear her. “You already had a spot reserved for you. Your mommy had everything taken care of and all you had to do was waltz in and start training, with _my mentor_ , I might add.” She shakes her head in disgust. “You’ve never known what it’s like to work a day in your life. Everything’s fallen right into your lap.”

Regina opens her mouth to correct her, but Zelena takes a shuddering breath. She sounds close to tears. Regina shuts her mouth.

“And maybe, for once, I just wanted things to be easy. So what if I was playing into a gold digger stereotype? Sue me. I want to be comfortable, for once. I’m so tired to fighting for every little thing. When does all this effort pay off? When does this uphill battle stop? When do I get to rest? I’ve put in so much, so so much. When will it be enough?”

Regina doesn’t say anything. Zelena hates platitudes even more than showing weakness. She takes some gulping gasps and composes herself. Her eyelashes are wet with unshed tears but her cheeks are not damp.

“You tell anyone any of this and I will end you,” she growls, her voice scratchy with tears.

Regina nods.

The elevator dings and the doors trundle open. They both step in, not looking at each other.

When the doors open again, Zelena heads to the training chamber without a backwards glance at Regina.

Regina lets out a breath. Part of her is disgruntled that Zelena seems to think her life is nothing but sunshine and rainbows but she has to admit that Zelena does have it a lot tougher than she does.

As she makes her way to the monitors, she makes out the sounds of Killian and Malcolm arguing again. She rolls her eyes. You'd think that the vainest two out of the team would get along, but they can't stand each other. Gold is never supposed to have them on the same shift but he seems like he’s forgotten while making the schedule...again. She wonders if maybe Zelena is onto something. Gold’s never been this distracted in the entire time she’s known him.

“For the last time, it’s all natural!”

“Bullshit!” Malcolm hisses. “I’m one of the best plastic surgeons in the metropolitan area. Don’t you think I’d be able to tell if someone’s had work done? And you reek of insecurity and exceedingly careful knifework. Tell me who you saw!”

“I can’t because I’ve never seen a plastic surgeon! How many times do I have to say it before you’ll get it through your thick skull?”

Malcolm grasps Killian’s chin. “There’s no way this jawline is real.”

“I’m warning you, man, you’d better get your hands off me right now or you’ll regret it.”

Malcolm snorts. “Or what? You’ll dazzle me with your pretty boy looks?”

"At least I'm not a fifty-something man who spends $20,000 on botox every year."

Malcolm gasps. "Take that back! Botox is for washed-up, D-listers who don't know any better."

Killian smirks. "Exactly," he spits, and shoves him.

They stand there, posturing before Regina gets in between them. “For god’s sake, you two are grown men! Go find another outlet for your homoerotic sexual tension. We are all so sick of your bickering.”

“Sexual tension?” Killian asks, outraged. “I hate him!”

Malcolm stares at her, his mouth open.

“Yeah, whatever it is, get rid of it. I don’t care how. I want some damn peace and quiet around here.”

Malcolm glares at Killian and then stalks off to the locker room. Killian scoffs and jogs to pass him. They end up getting wedged in the doorway. Regina ignores them as they both struggle to be the first one in the locker room.

Yes, this is the team that’s responsible for the well-being of the city.


End file.
